


Silently

by purplelacemoon



Category: Billary - Fandom, HILLARY CLINTON - Fandom, Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Billary, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:57:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 46,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelacemoon/pseuds/purplelacemoon
Summary: In the midst of the fallout from the Lewinsky scandal, Hillary is forced to face the worst ordeal of her life without the one person she always thought she could rely on for support. Billary, eventually.





	1. 2:09am

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this starts off really awful and sad but I promise it will get happier in later chapters! Obviously absolutely 100% fiction. 
> 
> *trigger warning* descriptions of sexual assault in the first chapter - I know this is a delicate subject but I didn't take writing about it lightly and I hope I handled it as sensitively as possible.

Hillary sat at her desk in frowning down at her paperwork with a million different thoughts swirling through her head. It was late, the early hours of the morning to be exact, and yet she was still up and working. Work was all she could bring herself to do at the moment, from the minute she woke up to the minute she went back to bed because giving herself any time to think about anything else was just too painful for her. 

Everyone knew about the affair now. Everywhere she went there were eyes on her, judging her, whispering about the most personal parts of her life. Some tried to comfort her; her friends would call her up and tell her exactly what they thought of Bill, how low he was for going behind her back, lying to her, betraying her like this, but it didn’t make her feel any better to hear it. She loved him, even after all he had done. She just didn’t know how to forgive him. It pained her so much to think about him with her, Monica, in that most intimate way. The way that was supposed to be just for them…

She shook herself out of her deepest thoughts and tried to refocus on her paperwork, but she could not longer concentrate on the words on the page. Her vision was blurred by tiredness and she glanced up at the clock: 2:09am. She wearily put her pen down and decided to call it a night. Tucking a strand of her golden hair behind her ear and straightening her skirt she stood up and began putting some files away. She was just finishing turning off the lights when she suddenly heard footsteps behind her and her office door clicked open.

She turned around in surprise, expecting to see one of her advisors or Chelsea or even Bill standing in the doorway. Instead she saw a tall dark figure she didn’t recognize. She quickly flicked her desk lamp back on, illuminating her office just enough for her to be able to see who it was. 

It was a member of secret service staff, assigned to her for protection. Hillary glanced at his face and recalled his name as Richard. She relaxed a little having identified the visitor, but still couldn’t shake the uncomfortable atmosphere now in the office and was eager to get away as quickly as she could politely do so. 

“Sorry, you startled me!” she began, concealing the shakiness of her voice, “was there something you needed from me?”

He didn’t respond, unnerving her further, and he swiftly shut the door behind him and stepped directly toward her. Hillary’s heart began to beat faster as she fought every instinct in her body to back away from him. But she hated to show any weakness, and so she stayed frozen firmly to the spot, although the unsettling glint in the man’s eye was sending panic through every part of her.

Richard squared closely up to Hillary and she smelt an overwhelming stench of alcohol on his breath as he towered over her. As he reached out and put his hand through her hair she finally found her voice and slapped his hand away in shock.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She demanded, anger and fear rising from inside of her. 

“Come on baby relax, Bill’s not the only one allowed to have all the fun,” he slurred into her ear.

Hillary recoiled in horror, struggling to even believe the situation she was suddenly in. She tried to stand her ground and she looked the intruder directly in the eye, “I think you should leave right away.”

He only smirked in response, “sweetheart you don’t have to play hard to get you know. I’ve seen you walking up and down the halls, teasing us all in your tight little skirts and heels with your hair all pretty. I know you must be dying to get the president jealous, well this is your chance for revenge. Don’t look so worried, I promise you’re gonna love it so much you’ll be begging me for more.”

Hillary had never felt more physically sick in her entire life. She glanced at the door in desperation, her quick mind racing through a million ways out of this and yet her feet stayed frozen to the floor in terror.

“Listen, I can get you permanently removed from Washington with one phone call so I suggest y-“ before she could finish her sentence Richard had grabbed her by the shoulders, pinning her to the wall.

“Perhaps I’m not making myself clear,” he grunted, his tone suddenly hardening as he tightened his grip on her, “I’m not asking for permission you stuck up bitch.”

Hillary felt the world blacken around her, her heart cold as ice in her chest as she realized what was about to happen. She wanted to scream for help, to cry, to beg for mercy, but found all the words got stuck in her throat. She stared at the floor in dread as she tried to brace herself. Her legs barely supported her weight as Richard pulled off her blazer and ran his hands all over her upper body and roughly pushed his lips against hers. He then lent into her chest and deeply inhaled the scent of her perfume, his eyes so consumed with lust that Hillary couldn’t bear to so much as glance at them as he continued his assault on her. Richard slowly moved his hands lower and her breath clenched in her chest as his rough hands made contact with her bare skin of her thighs. She shut her eyes tightly as he caressed her leg, keeping his other hand forced firmly on her shoulder trapping her against the wall.

“Please,” she whimpered, in a small voice she barely recognized as her own, “please just don’t.”

But her desperate words only seemed to spur him on further, his eyes flashing dangerously as he started unbuckling his belt and slid his hand higher up her skirt until he reached her underwear. He stroked the soft cotton for a moment, before hooking a finger inside it and violently ripping it down, making brief contact with her softest skin when suddenly, voices and footsteps coming from the hall outside the office distracted him and he quickly turned around in self absorbed fear that somebody might walk in and find them.

Nobody did, for the people were only passing by, but Hillary grabbed the precious few seconds of distraction to snap herself into action and ran out of the office as fast as she possibly could, her heart racing with a combination of fear relief and adrenaline. Before Richard had time to react and stop her she was out the door, the bright light of the hallway hitting her hard in contrast to the darkened office, but she didn’t let herself any time to adjust. She ran and ran, constantly looking over her shoulder to check that monster wasn’t chasing her. She didn’t stop running until she finally reached her bedroom, locked the door behind her and fell to the floor and allowed herself to cry. 

She sobbed and sobbed, gasping for air as her make up smeared down her cheeks the seemingly endless tears spilling from her eyes. She found herself getting more and more hysterical as she tried to process what had happened, until her stomach suddenly could take no more and forced her to rush into the ensuite bathroom and throw up. 

Once she had finished, she collapsed against the cooling bathroom tiles and tried to slowly regulate her breathing. She didn’t quite know how long she sat there for, but when she finally felt able to she quietly picked herself up, removed the rest of her clothing and climbed straight into the shower. 

The hot water burned at her skin but it still didn’t feel hot enough to her. She fiercely scrubbed at her body with her favorite soap, desperately trying to wash away the feeling of his hands on her skin, but the once refreshing citrus scent just didn’t seem to be effective anymore. She shampooed and rinsed her hair and then wrapped a large towel around herself, shivering as she headed back into the bedroom and pulled on some warm pajamas.

Hillary pulled back her duvet and settled into the large bed, her wet hair dripping onto the pillow. She lay there silently for a while, staring up at the ceiling and trying to stop replaying the evening over and over in her head. The room was so quiet, besides the ticking of the clock on the mantle. She turned over to face Bill’s empty side of the bed and reached her hand out to his pillow. He was of course sleeping on the sofa, as he had been since confessing his infidelities to her. She hugged his pillow close to her, her heart now longing for him to be beside her again, holding her and comforting her, yet her head told her she couldn’t possibly overlook everything he had done and reach out to him now just because she needed him. 

Still, she had never felt safer than when she was in his arms, and tonight, she had never felt less safe in all her life.

After what felt like hours of lonely tossing and turning in the giant bed, Hillary finally reached for her dressing gown and crept out of the room. She tiptoed across the hall to the lounge where Bill was currently sleeping, gently sliding open the door and quietly slipping inside. As she saw him, hunched up on the upholstered sofa her heart was instantly flooded with emotion. She couldn’t bear nor forget the stinging betrayal he had caused her, yet she still loved him with all her heart and in her current traumatized state she wanted to nothing more than to be held close by him and never let go. 

She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, debating what to do next. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk to him, or anyone for that matter, about what she had just gone through, but just being in that room with him and hearing his gentle breathing pattern as he slept was soothing to her, and she didn’t want to leave just yet.

She softly moved towards the sofa and sat quietly on it’s armrest, taking comfort in being near him again. The curtains in the room had been left slightly open as Bill preferred waking up to some natural daylight in the mornings, and so she stared out of the window at the darkened cloaked sky for a while, finding some peace in the silent night. Absentmindedly she rested her hand softly on his shoulder, and before she realized what she was doing he had begun to stir awake. 

He shuffled from his sleeping position, blinking curiously round the room, wondering what had woken him until his eyes spotted Hillary. His wonderful, beautiful Hillary. He had no idea what had brought her here at this hour but his heart leaped at the sight of her, in her nightwear, her hair all tousled, a sight he cherished so dearly and one that he had not been permitted to see since he betrayed her trust and broke her heart. He had almost forgotten how much he missed it. 

But as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room and he saw her face properly he realized something was very wrong. Her eyes locked with his and he could see all of the pain he had caused her; the sting of his betrayal and the sadness she felt…but there was something else now too, something he’d never seen in her before. A fear and a brokenness, a desperation silently staring back at him, longing to say so much but saying nothing. 

Hillary held his gaze for a few moments longer until she could no longer fight the temptation to give in and fall back into his arms telling him everything, and she knew she couldn’t do that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She quickly turned away and hurried back to her bedroom, silent tears falling from her eyes in place of all the words she didn’t know if she could ever bring herself to say.


	2. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who read and gave kudos or commented on the first chapter, sorry it took so long to update!

Bill hadn’t been able to get back to sleep that night. He lay awake, worrying about Hillary. In all the years he had known her and in all they’d been through together he had never seen her so distressed, and it broke his heart not knowing why.   
  
Of course, he knew partly why. He knew only too well how badly he’d hurt her with Monica, and then only rubbed salt in the wound further by lying to her about it, but this was more than that. He knew her well enough to be able to read her, even in as brief a moment as the one they had shared last night. He knew something else was badly wrong and he was determined to find out what and put it right.   
  
Hillary, on the other hand had fallen asleep instantly on returning to her room, completely exhausted by the horrific turmoil of the evening and the toll it had taken on her. She slept right through her alarm and missed her morning of meetings, something which was most unlike her and only worried Bill further when he heard about it.   
  
It was around midday when Hillary finally woke up, the sun high in the sky streaming through her half closed curtains. Her eyes stung slightly as she slowly opened them and blinked around the room. Her gaze fell upon the crumpled pile of yesterday’s clothes she had left on the floor and last nights events instantly came flooding back to her. She felt sick to her stomach and hugged her knees to her chest as her eyes filled with tears all over again. Acknowledging everything in daylight somehow made it feel all the more real and not just a horrible bad dream. She shook her head in disbelief, overwhelmed by it all and cradling herself on the bed, when suddenly she was shaken out of her thoughts as she noticed the clock and realized what time it was.   
  
She sat bolt upright, horrified at how late she was. Practicality and professionalism was instantly put before everything else and she quickly leaped out of bed and ran to her wardrobe to get dressed. If there was one art Hillary Clinton had utterly perfected; it was the art of soldiering on. She always put her work before herself and this would be no exception, she firmly decided.  
  
She hesitated briefly as she searched for something to wear. She had shoved yesterday’s skirt and blazer into a plastic bag and buried it deep in the back of the wardrobe not wanting to see it again, and now stood rummaging through the rest of her vast selection of clothes. It was still summer, and relatively warm outside but she just couldn’t bring herself to wear a skirt or dress. She tried to tell herself that what happened was nothing to do with what she had been wearing, and deep down she knew it to be true. But still she wanted to cover up as much skin as possible and avoid anyone looking at her in even a vaguely suggestive way. She had to try to reclaim her sense of self worth in what little way she could.  
  
Eventually she picked out some navy slacks, a turtleneck and matching blazer. She fixed her hair and applied fresh make up, removing the remains of last nights dried out mascara from her cheeks. Once she was relatively satisfied with her reflection she headed for the door, but froze as she reached for the handle as the paralyzing fear of last night washed over her again.   
  
_People were going to ask her questions. She’d have to explain why she’d been absent from her duties all morning. She’d have to face Bill, and- her heart lurched deep inside her chest as she realized; she would also have to face Richard._  
  
She swallowed hard and tried to regulate her breathing as she fought back flashes of memory of the previous night. She glanced at the clock. It was nearing 1pm and she couldn’t possibly put off the days work any longer. With a deep breath, she firmly turned the door handle and marched down the hall.  
  
Thankfully it was empty, as the second floor often was. Her privacy was intact for a few more moments. But as she reached the stairs she could already hear the buzz of activity and footsteps and phone calls that normally excited and energized her, now filling her with dread. She made her way down the staircase and pasted a hopefully convincing smile on her face as staff began to greet her.  
  
“Good afternoon Mrs Clinton.”  
  
“How are you doing Mrs Clinton?”  
  
“Can I get you anything Mrs Clinton?”  
  
Since the public revelation of Bill’s infidelity, most of the White House staff had been overly-nice and cautious around her. Which mostly made her uncomfortable as she never liked anyone to take pity on her, but today she found herself feeling surprisingly grateful for the friendliness.  
  
“No thank you,” She responded with what she hoped was a smile as she slipped quietly into the meeting room she was supposed to be in almost 5 hours ago.   
  
Her entrance was met with a brief silence, interrupting the intense conversation that had clearly been going on. She cleared her throat nervously, “please do accept my sincere apologies for my absence this morning, I was um, unwell.” Well it wasn’t entirely untrue, she reasoned with herself. “If somebody would be so kind as to pass along to my office the minutes from the hours I missed I would be extremely grateful.”  
  
“Of course, Mrs Clinton. And I do hope you are feeling better now?” The chief of staff who was holding the meeting offered after a moments pause.  
  
“I am, thank you,” She took her seat at the table and said no more, putting all her focus into the organization of the project currently being discussed.  
  
Several hours later the meeting drew to a close, and members of staff gradually began to filter out of the room. Hillary waited until she was sure the remaining people were fully engrossed in their own conversations before approaching her current assistant, Alice, a fiercely loyal mousy haired girl in her late twenties.  
  
“Alice, I need you to find something out for me,” she began, only slightly louder than a whisper.  
  
“Of course Mrs Clinton,” Alice nodded her head eagerly and flipped open a notepad to jot down her boss’s request.  
  
“I need you to find out the shift schedule of one of my secret service agents, Richard.”  
  
“Consider it done, I’ll report back to you right away.”  
  
“I- I don’t suppose you know if he’s here today?”  
  
Alice frowned deep in thought for a moment. “I don’t believe so. He may be here later, I think he usually is assigned the later shifts. Do you want me to put you in contact with him if it’s something urgent?”  
  
“Oh no no,” Hillary shrieked, a little too quickly. Several people looked round at them curiously and she quickly regained her composure. “That won’t be necessary. If you could just pass along his schedule to me as soon as you can.”  
  
“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”  
  
Hillary shook her head, and then suddenly realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten anything at all since yesterday afternoon, “actually, something to eat would be great.”  
  
Alice nodded, “mangoes? Mocha cake? Chicken sandwiches?” She suggested, listing some of the first lady’s favorites.  
  
“Sandwiches would be lovely.” Hillary smiled.  
  
“I’ll have them sent straight to your office.”  
  
Hillary’s smile faded as Alice darted out of the room to complete her requests. Her office. She was filled with a sickening dread at the thought of going back in there. And yet she knew she must.   
  
As the remaining occupants of the meeting room filed out and went their separate ways Hillary regretfully knew she could no longer delay the inevitable, and with a heavy heart she headed down the hall in the direction of her office.   
  
She had walked this hall literally hundreds of times, but all her previous everyday memories were now overpowered by images from last night. Of running. Breathless. Panicked. Scared. She felt her heart rate increase as she approached her door, hesitant to open it just incase he was still in there waiting for her. She took a deep breath and was just about to turn the handle when somebody came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
She leapt around in shock and only just managed to stifle a scream as she came face to face with Bill, who had finally found a window between his phone calls and meetings to check on his wife. He’d been desperately worrying about her all day and judging by her startled reaction just now, he was right to be.  
  
“Sorry,” he began nervously, “I didn’t mean to make you jump.”  
  
“It’s fine,” she insisted, although it was evidently clear she wasn’t, as she tried to calm her erratic breathing from the shock.   
  
An awkward silence followed. They hadn’t really spoken about any non work related issues since the affair, and the added strain of Hillary’s present circumstances certainly weren’t helping things along in any way.  
  
“Could I, er, speak to you for a minute?” Bill eventually stammered.  
  
“Fine.” Hillary agreed, folding her arms. Another pause, as neither one made any attempt to move from the doorway.  
  
“So…are we...gonna go in?”  
  
“Oh,” Hillary suddenly realized what he was waiting for. “Right. Yeah I guess so.” She reached for the door handle for the second time that afternoon, this time privately comforted by the fact that Bill was by her side. Although she was officially still furious with him, seeing him last night after everything she had gone through had begun to soften her heart towards him. Only she wasn’t ready for him to know that just yet. She had far too much else going on in her head, and without him to confide in she really had nobody to turn to for support.   
  
“So,” Hillary began, attempting to mask the unpleasant somersault feeling in her stomach as they entered the office and she was faced with the very same wall she had been so roughly violated against only 16 hours ago. “What did you want to speak to me about?”  
  
Bill studied her for a moment, her steely blue piercing gaze now hiding all the vulnerability she had let him see in her last night. He didn’t know quite how to begin expressing his concern for her. All their most recent interactions seemed to involve him apologizing, so he decided that would be a good a place as any to start with.  
  
“I’m so sorry Hill,”  
  
Hillary stared quietly at the floor, “I know.”  
  
Bill’s heart sank in his chest. He hated how much hurt he had caused her. He started to move towards her, but her subconscious defense reflexes kicked in and she instantly backed away in panic.   
  
Bill frowned. He knew she’d been hesitant to be in close personal contact with him since everything came out, but he’d never seen her react like this. She seemed…scared. He wasn’t used to seeing her scared. Angry, yes, and rightly so. Scared? Of him? Never.   
  
Even so, he didn’t push it, and retreated back to the distance they had been stood at before. After all, she did have every right not to want to be near him anymore, no matter how much it broke his heart.   
  
“Listen, about last night, you had me really worried. People have been saying you were sick?”  
  
Hillary felt the deepest sadness wash over her. She hated not being honest with him, but how could she possibly tell him. Their relationship was so strained now, she wasn’t even sure it could survive. Of course she wanted it to, and she was pretty sure he did too, but whether just wanting it was going to be enough, she didn’t know.  
  
“Yes,” she finally answered, having failed to come up with any better response. “Sorry I woke you. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She crossed the floor and sat down at her desk, removing some papers from the drawer indicating she had decided the conversation was over.   
  
Bill was hesitant to leave. He could tell there was something she wasn’t telling him.  
  
“Did you have a fever?” He continued, his face still anxious with concern for her.  
  
“Perhaps, yes.” She didn’t look up from her work, afraid to meet his gaze again incase she broke. She couldn’t let herself break.  
  
The tension was suddenly cut by a knock at the door followed by Alice, entering with a plate of fresh sandwiches and a sheaf of papers still warm from the photocopier. Upon noticing Bill’s presence in the office she began to offer her apologies for interrupting.  
  
“Mr President! I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were in here, I’ll come back later.”  
  
Hillary quickly called out and stopped her in her attempts to leave, “that’s okay Alice, my husband was just leaving.”  
  
Bill realized his time was up and sadly turned to exit. Alice waited until she thought he was safely out of the room before turning to Hillary with her findings, however unbeknown to her Bill had heard her first sentence just before the door clicked shut behind him.  
  
“I brought you a copy of the schedule you requested, of Mr Richard Green…”  
  
He frowned in curiosity. Why would Hillary want the schedule of another man? He felt a childlike jealousy rise inside him before he quickly swallowed it back down again. Of course there were a hundred innocent explanations. Hillary was always organizing so many functions, events, and dinners, and so her asking for somebody’s schedule was hardly out of the ordinary.   
  
Still, he strained his ear against the door trying to pick up any further clues from the conversation he had been dismissed from, but of course it was no good, the doors were fully soundproofed. He decided he had better head back to the Oval Office before anyone came along and found him listening in at his wife’s door, the staff had enough scandal to be whispering about lately without him adding further to the gossip.   
  
Back inside the office, Hillary studied the schedule in great detail and attempted to eat her sandwiches, but she found her appetite had completely left her. According to the papers in front of her, Richard worked the night shift between the hours of 10pm to 6am, Monday to Thursday. Today was Friday, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. She wouldn’t have to face him just yet. However just as she was about to fold the schedule away and immerse herself properly in her work, a penciled in note at the bottom of the page caught her eye and caused her heart to sink deep into her chest:  
  
 _‘richard green added to personal security team for the president and first lady during attendance of tomorrow’s charity dinner’_


	3. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who's been reading and commenting, I really appreciate it, I'm so happy that people are enjoying this story!

It was the following afternoon. The day of the charity dinner and Hillary was pacing the bedroom nervously in her dressing gown. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Bill since their exchange in her office yesterday as they had both been required for duties elsewhere in the White House. In a way she was relieved to have avoided him, she could tell he was still suspicious of her behavior the other night and she didn’t want him asking any questions she wasn’t ready to answer. On the other hand, she had found herself missing him and was secretly looking forward to spending the evening with him by her side, even if it was technically just for show now.  
  
‘Officially’ she was standing by him and they were working things out, and they had to maintain that image at public events. In reality though, they had barely spoken since the initial fiery row that had erupted between them when Bill finally told her the truth, and she still didn’t know if their marriage would survive this.   
  
And now this new nightmare had only complicated things between them further. Hillary was still very much shaken from her ordeal with Richard and she was struggling to deal with everything she was feeling by herself; she desperately wanted to be able to tell Bill, to have him comfort and protect her, but her own stubbornness and reluctance to go running back to him after all the hurt he caused her was standing firmly in her way. Not to mention the shame she now felt, even though she kept trying to tell herself she hadn’t done anything wrong.   
  
She checked her watch for around the fiftieth time that day. 6.30pm. Thirty minutes to go before they had to leave and she would be forced to be in close proximity with the man who had assaulted her. The thought of even seeing Richard tonight sent waves of nausea flooding through her, and she slipped a mint into her mouth in an attempt to try and ease her nerves as she began raking through her wardrobe looking for something to wear. However after several minutes having found nothing she deemed suitable she threw herself back down onto her bed with a heavy sigh in frustration.  
  
Hillary had never previously had any problem with clothes. She had so many suits, pants, dresses, skirts and shirts in all different styles and colors that she usually just put on whatever she felt like without giving it very much thought or consideration whatsoever. She certainly wasn’t one to labor over the latest fashions or color coordinate, although she did always still manage to look beautifully elegant, in her own way.  
  
But now nothing quite seemed to fit right anymore. She over-analyzed each outfit she tried, studying her reflection from every angle wondering if it was too tight, too revealing, or too suggestive. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look good; she did, it was just she didn’t want to be looked at anymore.  
  
She eventually decided on an indigo ballgown with lace detailing. The skirts were heavy which gave her some sense of protection, although she still opted to wear her thickest pantyhose underneath despite the warm summer evening. She realized regretfully that she no longer felt secure enough to venture out in public without putting as many barriers between her skin and the rest of the world as possible.   
  
Just as she was putting the finishing touches to her make up, a knock at the bedroom door caused her to jump, dropping her lipstick to the floor.   
  
“Honey?” A warm and familiar voice called out from the other side of the door, “the cars are here, are you ready to leave?”  
  
Upon hearing her husband’s voice, Hillary’s heart fluttered excitedly inside her chest, despite her better judgement, and she quickly unlocked the door to reveal Bill standing there in a smart black tie suit. _He looks handsome_ , she thought silently, though she didn’t say so.  
  
Bill frowned when he heard the key turn and wondered why she had locked the door; something they never normally worried about doing. However his concerns were very short lived as Hillary swung open the door and any rational thought was swiftly replaced with awe as his eyes were met with the sight of his beautiful wife in her ballgown.   
  
“Wow.” He gasped, “you look incredible Hill.”  
  
Hillary blushed and couldn’t help smiling back at him. The first time she had smiled in three days in fact. Bill always did have the gift of knowing exactly the right thing to say to make her feel good, even after everything that had happened between them.   
  
They stood frozen for a moment, staring at each other on the threshold of the bedroom they used to share. The moment was broken by a young assistant who had suddenly appeared in the hall.  
  
“Mr President, Mrs Clinton,” the woman nodded respectfully at each of them, “are you ready to leave?”  
  
Hillary nodded gently, followed by Bill, and the assistant led them both down the grand staircase and into the foyer of the White House.   
  
As the staff pulled opened the double doors the crisp cool air hit them as they descended the marble steps together to where the car awaited them. Hillary’s eyes darted nervously to where the secret service accompanying them were standing, and her breath tightened as she saw Richard’s face amongst them. He wore an unnervingly casual and uncaring expression, as though the other night had never even happened and it had just been a bad dream. _If only it had been_ , she wished.  
  
She quickly slipped her hand into Bill’s for support, much to his surprise. He curiously wondered what had prompted her sudden display of affection as they climbed into the car together, although he certainly wasn’t complaining. He lightly stroked her hand with his thumb and she squeezed back appreciatively.   
  
Neither one said anything during the car ride, but for the first time in a long time the silence between them was a comfortable one.  
  
When they arrived at the venue forty minutes later the First Lady and President were instantly bombarded by the usual swarms of photographers, press, and regular citizens wanting to catch a glimpse of them. The pair put on their game faces and stepped out of the car smiling and waving at the crowds as they were led into the building to greet the many guests and hosts of the dinner, a lengthy process that Hillary generally found exhausting, though her warm smile hid this well.   
  
Every now and then while speaking to somebody she would glance over her shoulder and check Richard’s whereabouts, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. But with each look she kept accidentally catching his eye, and she uncomfortably realized that he was watching her every move. Once Richard knew he had grabbed her attention he smirked, deliberately looking her up and down, mentally undressing her. Hillary felt her heart pounding faster in her chest and hurriedly broke the unwanted eye contact and turned away to try and focus on the conversation she had been having. But concentrating on her acquaintances words was proving to be much more difficult with the knowledge that Richard’s eyes were staring into her from across the room.  
  
She was incredibly relieved when the bell chimed for dinner and everybody filed into the next room to take their seats. The secret service remained stationed at the doors and Hillary felt able to relax a little.   
  
The dinner was a relatively pleasant once. The first few courses of the banquet were enjoyed and the speeches were given. Bill made some particularly terrible cheesy jokes which caused Hillary to shake her head in embarrassment at him as she laughed. It made Bill so happy to see her smiling again. Once he’d finished speaking he sat back down beside her and joined their hands together affectionately under the table. Much to his delight she didn’t pull away, and he took this as a good sign. Maybe they were going to be okay after all.   
  
The final course was served and Bill; not wanting to break their connection just yet, attempted to use his non dominant hand to eat the slice of cheesecake that had been placed in front of him, with varying degrees of success. Hillary noticed his struggle as he almost sent the garnish of raspberries flying off his plate and she stifled a giggle, touched that the reason for his predicament was his determination not to let go of her hand until she was ready.   
  
But the blissful ease she felt in that moment was soon to be broken.  
  
In the midst of the waiting staff clearing the dessert plates, several members of the secret service entered the room and stationed themselves throughout. Nobody really took much notice of this. It was quite common for agents to appear and disappear again as security levels required, and the buzz of chatter in the room remained as lively as ever with the guests.   
  
Except Hillary, who had suddenly turned as white as a sheet. She dug her nails into her palm as she saw Richard was amongst the agents who had entered the room, and he was headed directly towards where she was seated. He locked eyes with her for a moment as he approached, enjoying the sense of power he felt over her as the social formality of the situation forced her to remain seated at the table.   
  
She held her breath as he got closer and closer her, but temporary relief washed over her as he unexpectedly passed by her chair and instead spoke to Bill.  
  
“So sorry to interrupt Mr President but I have a message to pass on to you,” Richard handed over a folded slip of paper.  
  
Bill thanked him and glanced over the paper quickly. It was nothing urgent, and he briefly wondered why it hadn’t been left until after the dinner to be dealt with. He didn’t dwell on it though, as his attention was quickly recaptured by the conversation he had been having with a guest across the table from him.   
  
Hillary meanwhile sat with bated breath, wishing with all her heart that Richard would hurry up and move away. Unfortunately for her, Richard had other ideas. He lingered by her side, invading the small space between her chair and Bill’s. Once he was sure the president’s focus was entirely back in the direction of his conversation partner, Richard subtly and slowly ran his hand down Hillary’s back. The chair masked most of his action, and Hillary felt a wave of panic rush through her. _This couldn’t be happening. Not again._  
  
She crossed her legs tightly shut in a subconscious attempt to protect herself. Richard noticed her movements and got a thrill out of her discomfort.   
  
He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “getting all hot and bothered?”   
  
She glanced around the room in distress, the panic in her eyes silently begging for help, _why had nobody noticed what was going on?_ Everyone was so absorbed in their own conversations she felt powerless to just sit there. She knew he couldn’t really hurt her in a room packed with witnesses, but just feeling his unwanted touch on her body again was rapidly bringing back every single horrible memory of that night in her office. She could feel a familiar nausea rising in her stomach as she re-lived the memories and she began to panic. She had no idea where the bathroom here was. Richard began to push his luck, sliding her golden hair behind her ear and leaning into her once more.  
  
“I bet you’re so wet”  
  
This was too much for Hillary and she suddenly stood bolt upright, now barely even aware of own movements. She just had to attempt to free herself from the situation one way or another. All eyes snapped towards her but the room was now spinning out of her control, the concerned faces of everyone staring in her direction rapidly deteriorating in her blurred vision as her limbs failed to support her and she began to collapse. The last thing she heard was Bill’s worried voice calling her name before her consciousness was finally plunged into darkness and she fell to the floor.


	4. Jealousy

Hillary softly blinked her eyes open, surprised to find herself staring up at a familiar high white ceiling. As the room came into focus and she took in her surroundings she realized she was back in her bedroom at the White House, laid out on the large bed still dressed in her evening gown. Bill sat on the edge of the duvet gazing into the distance, worry etched into every line on his face.  
  
She shifted position drowsily, alerting Bill to her having woken up. His expression lit up instantly and he rushed to her side, slipping her hand into his.  
  
“Hill I’ve been so worried about you, are you okay?”  
  
“What happened?” She blinked, trying to recall how she ended up lying on the bed in her formal wear but her mind was blank.  
  
“You fainted,” Bill told her gently, “I carried you back to the car and we brought you back home straight away. You’re not well Hill.”  
  
Her eyes glazed over for a moment as the evening’s events slowly began to come back to her. She cleared her throat nervously and did her best to push the memories from her mind.  
  
“I’m fine,” she insisted, although given her current position she realized this was hardly convincing. She sat herself up against the pillows, her blue eyes flashing defiantly, daring him disagree.  
  
He sighed helplessly, knowing her stubborn streak all too well to recognize it would be pointless to argue. But seeing her collapse like that had shaken him more than he was letting on and he tried his best to reason with her.  
  
“Hillary you aren’t fine, you need to see the doctor. You were white as a sheet when you fainted. I was so scared.”  
  
Hillary softened her guard a little as she saw how genuinely concerned he was. “Bill, I’m not ill I promise, I don’t need a doctor. I just…it was just a dizzy spell. It was so hot in that room and my dress was too tight, that’s all.”  
  
“Okay, well you should really take it off then,” Bill began, meaning it in a purely practical sense but immediately realizing the alternate interpretation of his words and regretting them instantly, “I-I didn’t mean it like that-“  
  
Hillary couldn’t meet his gaze, “I know.” She mumbled quietly, and a sad silence filled the air. They hadn’t been intimate in that way since Bill had told the truth about Monica, and what would normally have been a comfortable, playful subject between them was now uncertain ground.  
  
“I just want you to be comfortable.” Bill assured her.  
  
She gave him a small smile in understanding, “I’ll get changed.” She nodded, pulling herself off the bed and heading towards the bathroom. Bill’s eyes stayed glued to her, watching her every step as though she was made of the finest glass and might shatter at any moment. Which although she would never admit it, was fairly close to how Hillary felt.  
  
Once she had shut the bathroom door behind her Bill let out a heavy sigh and sank into an armchair across from the bed. He felt exhausted, all the emotion of the evening finally taking it’s toll. Seeing his wife lying unconscious, so pale and weak made him hate himself even more for ever hurting her. He had put her through so much pain and she didn’t deserve any of it.  
  
Being back in their bedroom for the first time since he was thrown out was also reminding him of how much he missed her. Her conversation, her intelligence, her company, her laugh, her smile. The private moments they had shared between these four walls where they could just be completely themselves with one another, no secret service trailing them, no public eyes scrutinizing them, waiting for them to fall. Just him and her. Hillary and Bill. Together.  
  
But not anymore.  
  
As his eyes wandered his gaze fell onto a cracked photo frame sitting on the mantelpiece, and he got up to take a closer look. It was a picture taken on one of their first dates, and his heart filled with love at the memory. They both looked so young and full of hope for the future, for the world they would take on together and fix together. Her young eyes stared lovingly into his from behind the frames of her large glasses, her thick dark hair curling around her shoulders. Bill traced the cracks in the glass frame with his finger and realized Hillary must have thrown it and smashed it. There had been all kinds of rumors of her throwing things at him; lamps, bibles, vases, none of which she ever did. Not at him, at least. But the thought of her all alone in such despair that she had smashed one of their precious memories together almost made him wish she had thrown it had him. He certainly deserved it.  
  
He replaced the frame on the mantle making a mental note to get the glass fixed. That was the easy part. The not so easy part was fixing them, but he was now more determined than ever to do so. No more lies. No more other women. He couldn’t do it to her anymore. He loved her so much, and it was about time he made sure she knew it.  
  
He sat back on the bed, all the hopes and plans of a fresh start swimming through his mind. As he started to imagine ideas of how he would begin to earn her forgiveness, he suddenly noticed a slip of paper slide under the door.  
  
Bill frowned in curiosity. It was highly unusual for anyone to pass along a message in this manner in the White House. If the message contained any sensitive or classified information it would always have to be delivered directly to the hand of the recipient to avoid any breach of confidentiality. So it couldn’t be anything work related.  
  
He glanced toward the bathroom. The door was still firmly shut, and the continuous sound of running water indicated that Hillary was still safely in the shower. So he had a few minutes. He slid across the bed to the door and picked up the note before hesitating.  
  
_He really shouldn’t read it. Everything he had just been going over in his head had been about establishing a new trust between them, and yet here he was immediately suspicious at the first sign of something out of place._  
  
Still, his curiosity nagged away at him, and with a guilty conscience he finally gave in and unfolded the paper. A decision he would regret almost instantly, his worst fears were seemingly confirmed as he read the hastily scribbled words on the page:  
  
**_“Thanks for the other night baby, you were amazing. Let me know if you ever want a repeat performance - Bill doesn’t know what he’s missing. R x”_**  
  
Richard had written the note, of course. He had been consumed with jealousy when Bill had fussed over Hillary after she fainted. He’d watched them as the President tenderly carried the First Lady to the car, kissing her forehead softly and whispering lovingly into her ear. Richard’s spiteful envy caused him to imagine all kinds of scenarios that he assumed must now be taking place between the couple behind closed doors. Scenarios he had tried and failed to take for himself. He maliciously decided that if he couldn’t have Hillary, then no one could, and so he wrote and delivered the note hoping that Bill would see it and it would drive a wedge between the two of them.  
  
It would.  
  
Hillary meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware of the situation developing in the next room and had been doing some serious thinking of her own. She had been so touched by Bill’s affection towards her tonight. Holding her hand for support, comforting her, even carrying her all the way out of the charity dinner after her collapse. Her heart fluttered at the thought as she stood under the warm steady stream of water, the scent of soft rose soap lathered on her skin soothing her as she went over and over the evening in her mind. She wanted so much to rebuild their relationship. Seeing Bill back in their bedroom, filled with concern and love for her brought back years worth of memories of happier times between them. Memories of their younger selves, carefree and deeply in love had always carried her through their previous difficulties. She had faith that they would carry her through this too. After all despite all his faults, she loved him with all her heart and knew deep down she could never be without him.  
  
She suddenly realized that she had made her decision. She would tell Bill everything. There had been enough secrets between them to last a lifetime, and she needed him. Maybe this would be the start of a greater trust between them, a foundation on which they could begin to rebuild the broken pieces of their life together. _The truth had to come first._  
  
Feeling more at peace than she had done for days, Hillary wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and dried off. She slipped into some comfortable loungewear and tried to fix her hair a little. It was still damp from the shower, and curled naturally around her shoulders, framing her face. She applied some smooth lip balm and then took one final deep breath before opening the bathroom door, preparing herself to lay out her soul and tell Bill everything.  
  
“Bill?” Hillary’s soft voice broke through the silence in the bedroom, “honey, there’s something I need to tell you and I know you’re not going to like it but-“ she trailed off, seeing Bill’s expression as he turned sharply around to face her. His eyes pierced into her suspiciously. He looked angry and she felt confused.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“I thought you were about to tell me that?” He spat back sarcastically.  
  
Hillary felt the sting of his words as they hit her. _What was going on?_ “Bill, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she began shakily, “what’s happened?”  
  
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you finally decided to get your own back.” He thrust the note into her hands roughly, and she read it in shock.  
  
Her face fell in horror when she saw what was written there and the realization of why he was so angry finally became clear to her. “Richard,” she gasped, the very sound of his name on her own lips causing her stomach to lurch.  
  
Her reaction seemed to make Bill angrier still.  
  
“Oh so it’s true then? You aren’t even going to try and deny it?” He paused for a moment when another thought struck him, “Richard…that’s the guy who’s schedule you wanted wasn’t it? What were you trying to work out how many times you could squeeze being fucked by him into your busy busy schedule?”  
  
Hillary felt tears forming in her eyes and she fiercely tried to blink them away. This was all going so wrong, she was so sure five minutes ago that everything was about to take a turn for the better. How had everything spiraled out of control so fast?  
  
“Bill please,” she felt her hot tears begin to fall, “please listen to me it isn’t like that. I would never-“  
  
“Oh what are you too good even for that now are you? Saint Hillary? Untouchable. Cold as ice and about as sexy.” Bill knew he was being unfair but his anger and jealousy had taken control of his senses. She had never reacted like this on the many occasions that _he_ had been accused of this very same thing. She had always believed the best in him, even when it wasn’t there. And yet here he was ripping her to pieces with barely a scrap of evidence to go on. The injustice stung Hillary like a slap in the face, and she felt her own anger begin to boil.  
  
“Is that really what you think of me?” She raised her voice dangerously, “is that what you tell yourself when you go off and let one of your sluts drool all over you while the rest of the world laughs along at my expense?”  
  
Bill didn’t answer, his eyes shifting to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t be accusing her like this and yet he still wanted answers.  
  
“Listen, just tell me straight that you’ve never been involved with this Richard guy?” He stared accusingly into her bright blue eyes, still glistening with tears. She hesitated, the memories of that night in her office resurfacing. Bill noticed the flicker in her eyes and misinterpreted her hesitance for guilt.  
  
“I see. Right well I’ll get out of your way then, I’m sure you must be dying for your next session with him.”  
  
The thought made Hillary feel sick and she had to fight her reflexes to stop herself throwing up there and then. She swallowed hard and stared daggers back at him.  
  
“You’re talking absolute garbage. I haven’t _been_ with anyone else. Not that I should have to explain myself to you anyway, it’s not like you ever worried about explaining yourself to me until you were stupid enough to get caught out.”  
  
Bill snatched the paper back from her and waved it in her face. “This IS you being caught out Hillary. Or do you have some other magical explanation for this note? Hmm?” His words dripped with bitter sarcasm making her angrier still.  
  
“He’s lying.” She crossed her arms defensively.  
  
Bill scoffed, “wow, well you’re clearly new to the whole ‘coming up with believable excuses’ thing aren’t you? At least try and make the effort to think of something original.”  
  
Hillary frowned at him in disbelief. “Oh well I _am_ sorry that I’m not as gifted a sleazy lying cheat as you.”  
  
“So you admit that you’re lying then?”  
  
“I didn’t say that.”  
  
“Yes you did!”  
  
“No I did not.”  
  
“You JUST did!“  
  
“Bill for gods sake stop being so goddamn ridiculous. You sound like a child. You’re the one who cheated on me remember? We don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore in case you hadn’t noticed so what would it even matter if I _had_ done what you’re accusing me of?”  
  
“Oh so it doesn’t matter anymore then? So I can just go off with whoever I want and it doesn’t bother you?”  
  
“Well it bothering me never seemed to stop you before did it?”  
  
“Fine, well I guess I can go and give Monica a call then? At least her big mouth is actually good for something.”  
  
“Fine! You fuck off back to her!” Hillary screamed back.  
  
“Maybe I will!” Bill shouted as he stormed out the door. Hillary slammed it shut behind him with all of her strength, and the almighty bang echoed loudly throughout the halls of the White House as she sank to the floor and began to sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who's reading and enjoying this story, I promise it won't be too much longer till the truth starts to come out! Please do leave any comments or reviews and let me know what you think, I really appreciate them!


	5. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you so much everyone who is reading and enjoying this story! I know it's moving a bit slowly but stay with me - there's some revelations coming very soon! I hope you like this next update, please do let me know what you think <3

The tense atmosphere in the White House reached new heights over the following days. Whenever Bill and Hillary were forced to be in a room together things between them were so icy you could practically feel the frost form on the windows. Doors and filing cabinets were repeatedly slammed, pens scratched at papers with such intensity it was a wonder they didn’t tear through them, stony looks were exchanged frequently, and civil conversation was avoided at all costs.  
  
Hillary, not one to be half-hearted about anything, threw herself into her anger with full force. She knew how to be angry, god knows she’d had enough practice in her time. And being angry distracted her from what she was really feeling which was scared. And she hated being scared.  
  
She was furious with Bill for what he accused her of. Every time she saw him she felt fresh anger boiling inside her. _How dare he speak to her like that after everything he put her through? How dare he accuse her of the very thing he had done to her that tore their relationship apart in the first place? Did he really think so little of her?_ She felt angry with herself for almost opening up to him, firmly deciding once and for all that she could never tell him the truth now. He didn’t deserve her truth anymore. She would handle this on her own, become the cold detached person the media had already decided she was anyway.  
  
They did however still maintain their happy couple facade in public as far as was necessary - it was just easier that way. Every event they attended she would hold his hand and kiss him on the cheek when he finished one of his speeches, the American people hanging on his every word. They would walk away from the watching crowds with their arms wrapped around each other, but the very second the cameras were off and doors were closed they would drop each other like a hot rock on a summers day, not saying another word and disappearing in opposite directions as fast as they could.  
  
Things went on like this for several days, to the point where staff had begun trying to avoid spending too much time in close proximity to either of them in attempt to protect themselves from being snapped at too harshly. Tempers were short and patience was thin, it was not a pleasant time at all.  
  
The only person Hillary couldn’t bring herself to snap at was Alice, her assistant. The young girl had been a much needed support to her after Bill’s initial revelations, and she would certainly never forget the kindness she had shown her that first morning after Richard attacked her. She began to realize that Alice very much reminded her of her younger self. She was so eager to learn, quick to pick things up, always reliable, opinionated yet respectful; all qualities that Hillary admired greatly, and slowly but surely a trust was built between them.  
  
Hillary had asked Alice to discreetly see to it that Richard was reassigned away from her to lower level duties in a different part of the White House, and Alice had successfully carried out the task. She didn’t ask any questions, though Hillary had seen the curiosity and concern written on her face at the request. There was a sort of unspoken understanding between the two of them after that. Alice had begun to piece things together from Hillary’s reaction whenever Richard’s name was mentioned, to her jumpiness at the slightest noise or unexpected contact, fear flashing through her eyes before the First Lady quickly blinked it away. Alice had seen it in too many of her friends before. She wished she could say she wouldn’t be seeing it again.  
  
She quite correctly sensed that Hillary would rather not to be alone in her office for the time being, and so Alice had taken to adopting the spare desk in order to keep her company, occasionally bringing in a slice of her favorite mocha cake in an effort to help lift her spirits.    
  
One afternoon she eventually worked up the courage to touch upon the unspoken subject with the First Lady, wanting her to know she was there for her, but it was to no avail.  
  
“You know,” Alice had begun, choosing her words as carefully as possible, “you can…talk to me. As a friend I mean, about anything. It wouldn’t go any further.”  
  
Hillary sighed. She knew what she was referring to of course, and she appreciated her kindness. But it just didn’t feel right talking about this with anyone before she had told Bill. Even with her current hostile feelings towards him, something inside her would always put him first.  
  
She looked up into Alice’s warm brown eyes and gave her a small yet sad smile, “I know.”  
  
They sat in a regret laced silence for the remainder of the afternoon, each getting on with their own work but grateful at least of each others company and what little comfort it brought.

\---------------

The atmosphere between Bill and Hillary on the other hand had only continued to get more and more heated, and things finally came to a head one evening in the Oval Office.  
  
They were both in attendance of a meeting to discuss a speech the president would be making on education policy, and the passionate discussions had gone back and forth for several hours now. It was 8pm, and most of the other government officials who had been contributing to the issue had gradually left by this point, being required for other duties elsewhere. This went largely unnoticed by the President and First Lady, who were so deep in heated debate that they had barely registered the emptying of the room. In fact they had really barely registered little else other than their fierce determination to disagree with one another as they continued laboring over the speech.  
  
“Bill you need to get rid of that line you just repeated the exact same sentence twice in the same paragraph.” Hillary leaned in to the desk and struck a neat line through part of the speech with her fountain pen, irritating Bill enormously.  
  
“It’s fine like that. Repetition reinforces the impact of the point. If you keep writing all over it like that I’m going to have to get a secretary to retype the whole thing just so I can read through your scribbles.”  
  
“Well I’m _sure_ they won’t mind, after all your secretaries are used to doing all kinds of favors for you aren’t they?” Hillary jabbed back, her words coated in an overly patronizing tone.  
  
Bill rolled his eyes, “for gods sake just stop changing things okay? I do know what I’m doing.”  
  
“And so do I,” Hillary insisted firmly, “education has been my area of expertise for far longer than you. I’m the one who’s been out there, met with families, exposed the injustices and prejudices in the schooling systems. I’m the one who gets this, Bill.”  
  
“Yes I know you do, and I’m listening to you aren’t I?”  
  
“Are you?”  
  
And so it went on. The clock struck 9pm and still the heated debate went back and forth between them, both jumping on the slightest opportunity to disagree with the other. Each of their passion had always fueled the other one’s fire, and neither showed signs of giving in quietly.  
  
“Is that really the kind of thing you want to be saying in your opening statement?” Hillary underlined two sentences at the bottom of the page, “we’re supposed to be focusing on how the achievement gaps have narrowed, people need to feel reassured that we’re actually taking action.”  
  
“We _are_ taking action.”  
  
“So make sure people know it then. Highlight the outlines of the changes we’re implemented before you start talking about how far we have to go or that’s all people will hear. A negative is always louder than a positive Bill.”  
  
“Don’t I know it,” He muttered under his breath before snatching the paper back from her, “and for the last time, I’ve already said stop scribbling your pen all over this god damn thing, I can hardly see the actual speech anymore.”  
  
Hillary rolled her eyes but stayed silent at least while Bill rewrote the changes she had suggested.  
  
“Better?” He shoved the paper towards her sarcastically.  
  
“See that wasn’t so hard was it?” She retorted back, matching his sarcasm.  
  
They read further down the page, both pairs of keen eyes racing each other to spot the next mistake first and call it out. Hillary had always been the quicker reader of the two, and it wasn’t long before she was brandishing her fountain pen in criticism once again.  
  
“You can’t say that Bill,” she circled yet another section of his speech condescendingly, as though she was grading the homework of a disappointing child. “That would be completely switching your position from the last time you addressed this. You’ll end up looking hypocritical if you go back on your words like that.”  
  
Bill slammed his own pen down exasperated, he had finally had enough. “Oh yes and you’d know ALL about being hypocritical wouldn’t you honey?“ His words laced with sarcasm.  
  
Hillary stared at him darkly. _So the gloves were officially off now were they? Fine, she could always give back plenty as good as she got._  
  
“Actually you know what on second thoughts maybe you should just go ahead and backtrack on your word. Hardly new territory for you after addressing the trusting people is it?” She snapped back. Bill looked up into her blue eyes now flashing dangerously with anger and passion and determination. Suddenly the education policy was forgotten.  
  
“Well at least I was honest about my mistakes eventually. You won’t even admit yours when you get caught!”  
  
“For the last time Bill, I. Didn’t. Do. Anything. Richard was lying. Did it never occur to you anywhere in that big head of yours that we have enemies? People who want to split us up for their own gain? Divide and conquer us?”  
  
“Well I’m sorry to have to break it to you Hills but I really don’t think we have that many enemies who have access to our _bedroom_. How did they get past security, hm? Because last time I checked security weren’t all that keen to let mysterious enemies of state wander through the halls slipping notes underneath bedroom doors.”  
  
Bill’s mocking tone stung and she inched closer to him, her hands on her hips indignantly and her lips and cheeks flushed red with rage.  
  
“Listen to me William Jefferson Clinton. You think you’re so smart don’t you? That you can get away with whatever you want? Well let me tell you you are NOTHING without me by your side.”  
  
“Oh is that right?” He shouted back, even though she was now stood so close their shoes were practically touching.  
  
“Yes. It is. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. Only you didn’t think about that the last time you were sticking your dick into some twenty something year old slut did you?”  
  
“For gods sake you always have to take the moral high ground don’t you?”  
  
“Well maybe that’s because I always _have_ the moral high ground. Somebody has to. It certainly isn’t going to be you any time soon is it? With your lying and cheating and general lack of awareness for any kind of real world consequences.”  
  
He edged even closer to her. _God she was so sexy when she was angry._ He tried to focus on what they were yelling at each other, but he wasn’t even sure what they were fighting about anymore. Passion had long since overtaken substance.  
  
“It’s hardly like I stand much of a chance with you and your unrelenting standards around is it?”  
  
Hillary stared at him, her lips parting in disbelief, “oh so this is all MY fault now?”  
  
“Maybe it is!”  
  
“Fuck you Bill-“ She pushed roughly at his chest but he countered her actions by suddenly wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling him towards her, pressing his lips against hers. She gasped into his mouth surprise, knowing she should pull away but finding herself unable to deny how much she wanted him. She ran her fingers through his salt and pepper hair as he cupped her cheeks and deepened the kiss. She granted his tongue the access it was seeking as the heat of their anger rapidly dissolved into desire.  
  
Bill lifted her onto the desk, their lips never parting as she wrapped her legs around his, pulling him closer. He quickly pulled off her high collared royal blue blazer and discarded it to the floor, exposing the creamy skin of her neck. He broke the contact of their lips and began placing kisses along her neck, sucking at her pressure point causing her to moan breathlessly.  
  
“Bill,” she gasped, her voice dripping with want and need as she ran her hands over his back, pushing his jacket down and reaching for his belt. She felt how hard he was for her through his pants and he let out a deep groan as he felt her touch beneath the barrier of the fabric.  
  
“I need you,” he breathed roughly into her ear before kissing her lips again. He moved his hand down to her pants and pulled them down. The sudden exposure took Hillary by surprise and she was momentarily distracted, unwanted memories of the last time somebody had their hands on her in this way flooding through her mind. But she tried to focus. _This was Bill. Her Bill, and she was choosing this. She wanted this._  
  
Shaking the unwelcome thoughts out of her head she turned her attention to unbuckling Bill’s belt, all the while maintaining the heated contact their lips were locked in. Bill ran one of his hands through her now tousled golden hair, as the other traveled further down her body, skilfully paying attention to her most sensitive areas along the way. As he reached her center he could feel her heat aching for him, making him harder still. He hooked a finger into the silky fabric of her underwear and began pulling it down, when suddenly Hillary was plunged once again into a flashback of that night in her office; Richard’s actions then mirroring Bill’s now. She began to panic, her eyes filling with tears. She couldn’t fight back the thoughts any longer and she desperately pushed Bill away from her.  
  
“Wait stop, please don't.” She cried shakily, her mind still trapped in the memories.  
  
Bill saw the fear in her eyes and at the urgency in her voice he stopped immediately, and backing away giving her room to breath.  
  
Hillary slowly managed to calm herself and quickly re-dressed, covering any of her exposed skin and wrapping herself in her blazer, tears still falling from her eyes. Bill’s gaze stayed with her, his senses filled with worry and concern but she didn’t dare to look back at him. She felt so ashamed, so scared, and how would she ever be able to explain this to him? She couldn’t. She wiped her eyes and between unsteady breaths she whispered two final words to him before running from the room.  
  
“I’m sorry.”


	6. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone I'm soooo sorry it took me so long to update with this next chapter! I've had a lot going on with school in the week and then the inauguration of that thing on friday kind of killed my spirit to write over the weekend. And this was an important chapter so I wanted to make sure I got it right and didn't rush it but it's finally done now so I hope I did it justice and I'll hopefully be updating more regularly again from now on! Also sorry in advance this is pretty sad but I promise the next chapter will be a bit lighter! Please do let me know what you think :)

Bill felt absolutely lost as he watched his wife go running from the room in such a distressed and vulnerable state. His heart ached seeing this incredible strong woman completely break right in front of him. It struck him that he had just recently seen her like this once before, and he finally matched the fear he had just seen in her eyes today to that which he had seen in her the night he had woken to find her sitting beside him as he slept on the couch. That same brokenness and desperation, shining back at him from behind unfallen tears.   
  
He had let her slip away that night, let her run off into the darkness all alone. In his barely awake state he had been so taken aback by her unexpected visit that it just didn’t register with him quickly enough to act, and before he knew it she was gone again.  
  
 _Well not this time._   
  
He quickly realized he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice; he couldn’t let her go again.  
  
Bill grabbed his jacket and hurriedly refastened his belt as he bolted out of the Oval Office, sending the speech papers they’d been working on flying across the floor in his dash but he didn’t care. All he cared about in that moment was Hillary, and he ran straight across the hallway toward the staircase. He of course hadn’t seen which way she had gone, and he was relying only on his heart to guide him in the right direction. He felt sure she would have headed back to the comfort and privacy of their bedroom; he remembered how she had once told him that despite the room being one of the only ones in the White House without a member of the secret service stationed permanently guarding the door, it was still where she felt safest in the world because it was the room she shared with him.   
  
_At least she used to_ , Bill remembered sadly. He was so lost in deep thought as he ran that he didn’t notice one of his assistants turning the corner right in front of him, and he narrowly avoided colliding straight into his path.  
  
“I’m so sorry Mr President!” The assistant the stammered, trying not to drop the many files they had balanced in their grip, now wobbling precariously.   
  
“My fault,” Bill apologized, tapping a reassuring hand on the assistant’s shoulder quickly before darting off at a great speed again. He hurtled up the staircase, jumping the steps three at a time as the assistant watched on in surprise, assuming some state of national emergency had been called in order for the president to be reacting in such a way.  
  
But of course there was no crisis. No world leader on the other end of the telephone. No critical negotiations to be made. Bill almost wished there were, for he had always been gifted at dealing with those kinds of situations with admirable ease. But this was different. Bill Clinton might well be able to run the highest office in the land without so much as breaking a sweat, but this was his heart; his beautiful incredible wife, and seeing her in such distress was all it took to shatter his normal casual and collected resolve into a thousand broken pieces.   
  
Finally, he reached their bedroom door and with bated breath he tried the handle, praying with all his heart that it wouldn’t be locked.  
  
It wasn’t.  
  
The door clicked open smoothly and Bill sighed with relief as he stepped inside and shut it firmly behind him again. He blinked around the room - it appeared empty. Everything was so still, the bed freshly made and the curtains neatly drawn shut. There appeared to be no sign of the room being occupied whatsoever…until Bill suddenly heard the unmistakable heartbreaking sound of soft muffled sobbing coming from the ensuite bathroom.  
  
He rushed over toward the smaller door at the far end of the bedroom, but hesitated before pushing the handle. He decided to knock instead of trying to barge in, so as not to startle her.  
  
“Hillary?”  
  
On the other side, Hillary sat on the floor hugging her knees close to her chest, her make up smudged under her eyes where her tears were still falling. She had kicked off her shoes and the cold bathroom tiles under her feet caused her to shiver.  
  
She flinched as she heard the familiar sound of Bill’s voice calling to her; she hadn’t expected him to follow.  
  
Bill could tell from the shadow underneath the door that Hillary was sat on the floor and leaning against it, and so he slowly lowered himself down and sat on the carpet on the other side so he could be at the same level with her.   
  
“Hillary?” He repeated softly. He could tell she was trying to quiet the sound of her sobs but he could still hear them and the sound broke his heart, “Hillary please, what is it? What’s wrong?”  
  
Hillary shook her head desperately to herself on the other side of the door, the kindness and care in his voice causing even more tears to fall from her eyes. She had no idea how to even begin to tell him the truth. Everything was such a mess.  
  
“Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to I swear to you, please talk to me honey?”   
  
“It wasn’t you,” Hillary’s small fragile voice finally answered. She didn’t know how to explain, but she couldn’t let him think he had caused this.  
  
Bill breathed a short sigh of relief, but his concern only grew deeper.  
  
“Then what…? …Has something else happened?”  
  
More silence. He tried again.  
  
“Honey please, please tell me I can’t bear knowing you’re this unhappy.”  
  
Again, his questions were met with another drawn out silence.   
  
“I can’t.” Hillary eventually whispered.  
  
“Why not?” He tried to keep his voice as gentle as possible but Hillary could hear the desperation in it.  
  
“Because…because I couldn’t bear for you to look at me differently.”  
  
Bill felt his heart break all over again as he heard her voice dissolve into fresh sobs. He put his hand up against the wood of the door that separated them, wishing he could comfort her. “Hillary, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. We’ve been through everything together. Stood united through our successes and failures and nursed each other through sickness and health. We’ve grown together, learned together, laughed together, and cried together. We’ve lost family and friends, and made new ones. I stood by your side the day you were in the hospital in labor with our daughter. I’ve watched you nurse her, cherish her, and raise her into the incredible young woman she is today. I know I’ve let you down, and I’ve regretted my actions every single minute since. Whatever this is, I know we can face it together and I promise you Hillary _I promise you_ that nothing in this world could never ever stop me from loving you and I will never ever look at you any differently or with any less of the awe I feel for you every single day.”  
  
Hillary listened to his heartfelt words as fresh tears streamed down her face, this time for a different reason. She loved him so much, more than she ever thought it were possible to love anyone. She hated being separated from him these past few months and secrets had only torn them further apart. This moment could make or break them but she knew it was time for her to tell him the truth.   
  
“You promise?” She whispered finally.  
  
“I promise.”  
  
Hillary shut her eyes tightly and Bill could hear her steadying her breathing through the wooden barrier of the door separating them. He waited patiently, giving her all the time she needed to compose herself, and after several minutes of silence his patience finally paid off and he heard her soft voice begin to speak from the other side of the door.  
  
“That night…the night I came into your room something-something did happen.” Her voice was barely even a whisper, and Bill leaned his ear close against the door between them. “In my office I…I was working late and…and a member of the secret service came in. Richard.” Hearing herself with his name on her tongue made Hillary feel sick again, and Bill’s blood began to boil at just the mention of him. But he choked back his jealousy this time and let her continue. He couldn’t make assumptions or jump to conclusions anymore, she needed him to be strong.  
  
“I was all alone, and he…he…tried…tried to-“  
  
Bill could hear her breath shaking with every pause she took. “It’s okay honey, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, you can take as much time as you need,” he soothed, trying not to let his own voice give away the cold dread he felt at what she was about to tell him. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting her.  
  
Hillary kept her eyes tightly shut as she continued, “I was pushed into a corner and I just- I didn’t know what to do…I was too scared to move and h-he…” every time she tried to finish the sentence her voice failed her, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it. She knew as soon as she did she could never take it back, and saying it out loud somehow made it feel all the more real.   
  
But she’d come this far, and she knew she couldn’t back out now.  
  
She took one final deep breath before finally allowing the words she’d kept inside for so long to tumble from her lips, “…he tried to rape me.”  
  
Hillary collapsed into fresh sobs at the confession and Bill had never felt more devastated as silent tears fell from his own eyes. His heart felt as though it had been ripped right from his chest, a million thoughts crashing through his brain as he cried for her and blamed himself. _He should have protected her. He should have been there for her._   
  
All he wanted in the world in that moment was to hold her in his arms and comfort her, to tell her everything was going to be okay and that he would never let her go again. And as though reading his thoughts, Hillary suddenly reached up from the floor on the other side and unlocked the bathroom door, finally removing the last physical barrier between them and falling desperately into his ready embrace.


	7. Red Roses

Bill slept in their bed that night. He’d imagined his first night back in his bed with his wife so many times and in so many ways since he had been banished to the couch, but it had never once crossed his mind that it would end up being like this. They lay together wrapped in each others arms, still fully clothed with the duvet draped over them. Hillary hadn’t initiated undressing and Bill certainly wasn’t going to make her feel uncomfortable by suggesting it, so they stayed just as they were. Few more words were exchanged between them after Hillary’s revelation, enough had already been said. He simply cradled her in his arms and rubbed her back, soothing her as she cried against his chest.  
  
Bill awoke first the next morning, for a second wondering where he was until he turned and saw Hillary sleeping next to him and everything came flooding back. She looked so peaceful, lying there beside him. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed deeply in her sleep, marveling at her beauty. The sunlight came creeping in through the curtains, hitting her golden hair and catching the light of the gold buttons on the jacket she still wore. He had missed seeing her in the mornings like this, before the stresses and strains of the day took their hold of her.  
  
Several minutes passes before she began to stir, her eyelashes slowly fluttering open as her blue eyes met with his.  
  
“Morning,” he whispered softly.  
  
She smiled back up at him, but he saw the sadness returning behind her eyes as she remembered the circumstances which had brought them back together like this. She shifted closer to him and lay her head on his chest as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, using the other to stroke her hair softly. They stayed like this for a while, until Hillary finally spoke.  
  
“So where do we go from here?”  
  
It was a loaded question, and Bill tried not to smile at her bluntness. Hillary never did like to beat around the bush, even in situations as painful as this. She was first and foremost always practical, she had so much strength. It was one of the many qualities he admired so much in her.  
  
“I guess…we go to the police.”  
  
Hillary immediately sat up straight. “No. Bill I’m not going to do that.”  
  
“Why not? We can’t let him get away with what he did to you?”  
  
“Bill if we go to the police then the press will get hold of this and I don’t think I could live with it if the rest of the country found out. I don’t want everyone looking at me like that, judging me, pitying me. I just couldn’t bear it, please say you understand that?”  
  
“So you’re just going to let him get away with it?”  
  
Hillary shook her head despairingly in response. “No level of punishment can ever undo what he did to me anyway. If we go to the police and he denies the charges then I’ll have to testify in court. Everyone will find out and I can’t go through that Bill I just don’t think I’m strong enough. He’s taken so much from me already but my dignity is still mine. I need to hold on to it. So please, please just let me deal with this my own way okay?”  
  
Bill looked deep into her determined bright blue eyes and knew there was no changing her mind. He wanted nothing more than to strangle Richard, to beat him black and blue for ever daring to lay a finger on his beautiful wife. But he realized that if he was ever going to repair their broken trust he needed to put Hillary’s wishes above his own anger; to match her own incredible strength and start being strong for her for a change.  
  
He took hold of her hand gently and reluctantly agreed, “if that’s what you want.”  
  
“It is.” Hillary assured him, squeezing his hand tight. She nestled her head on his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head tenderly. As they sat like this on the bed, Bill stroked a finger over where she usually wore her wedding ring, and his thoughts wandered to the other issue hanging silently in the background.  
  
He didn’t say anything yet, wanting them to stay like this with her in his arms for as long as possible, utterly content being back by her side once again. When Hillary finally made a move to get up and turned away from him, Bill took his opportunity and plucked up the courage to ask her the real question.  
  
“And what about us?”  
  
She had her back to him, but he could see her shoulders tense and she let out a sigh.  
  
“I don’t know Bill. I really don’t. I love you so much…but I can’t keep going through this.”  
  
His heart sank. “I know. And I’m so sorry, really I am. And if I have to keep trying to make it up to you every single day till the day I die then I will. I love you more than anything Hillary, I promise this will be the end of it, no one else, never again.”  
  
She turned to face him, studying his expression intently, “I know you might think you mean that now Bill, but I’ve heard it too many times before. I don’t think words are going to be enough this time.”  
  
She turned away, not trusting herself to wait for his response, afraid if she held his gaze for even a second longer she would give in and fall straight back into his arms.

He always had been her biggest weakness.  
  
And she always had been his greatest strength. He was determined he would not lose her.

Bill watched her walk towards the bathroom and took his cue to leave. He climbed off the bed and took one last look at the woman who held his heart.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Hillary felt herself melting hearing the affection in his words, she longed to return them but remained determined to stand her ground. She waited until he had left the room before eventually whispering her reply under her breath.  
  
“I love you too.”

\----------------

  
Over the following days Bill was true to his word to Hillary and he did not pursue Richard, but as time went on he was finding it increasingly difficult to hold his tongue. Every time he saw the man smugly standing around the White House Bill felt his blood boil in anger, knowing what he had done and how had gotten away with it.  
  
But he didn’t lash out. He couldn’t. He had to prove to Hillary he was serious about fixing things between him, and if that meant doing nothing to this monster, then nothing was exactly what he would do.  
  
Well, not quite nothing. He had to replace his anger with something, the lack of action was driving him insane. And so every time he saw he Richard and was forced to fake a polite interaction, a smile, a nod, he arranged for and delivered a single red rose to Hillary.

 _Something beautiful from something broken._  
  
And so Hillary found her life suddenly littered with the flowers, roses randomly appearing in the most unexpected of places. The first one was sent to her with her morning mail, attached to a sheaf of envelopes with the presidential seal so that she knew it was from Bill. The second appeared on her bedside cabinet, held between the pages of her favorite book. The third came resting in place of a teaspoon on the saucer of her teacup one morning, much to Alice’s amusement when she delivered the hot drink to the First Lady. And so it went on. Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven roses over the course of the week. Each time she found a new one she would smile, her cheeks blushing to match the flower, and although she didn’t really realize it at the time, piece by piece and rose by rose, her heart very slowly started to begin to heal.  
  
By the twelfth rose, Hillary managed to catch Bill in the act, charging into her office one afternoon with a million things to do to find him in the middle of placing a flower neatly into her pen pot. She felt touched to see he really had been hand delivering them all himself.  
  
“Bill what are you doing?”  
  
He jumped sheepishly and turned to face her. Her tone was scolding but there was a undeniable smile on her face which she was trying her best to hide.  
  
“Aw honey you’ve ruined the air of mystery now,” he chuckled, handing her the rose he had been trying to deliver. She giggled and rolled her eyes.  
  
“You do realize I knew it was you? In fact I’m pretty sure the entire White House staff knew it was you, I keep hearing everyone talking.”  
  
“Well let them. They’re gonna talk anyway, I’d much rather it be about how much I love you this time.”  
  
She smiled up at his kind eyes, trying not to let herself get swept away by his charm.  
  
“So what are they in aide of anyway, the roses? Have 12 special occasions passed by that I don’t know about?”  
  
“Oh so you’ve been counting then?” He smirked.  
  
Hillary rolled her eyes and shook her head with a giggle. “Maybe.”  
  
Bill smiled joyfully, then leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.  
  
“The occasion is I love you.” He answered softly, “and I’m never going to stop loving you so I guess it looks like I’m just never going to stop sending you roses huh?” And with that, he turned around and started heading out of the office.

Hillary raised a hand to her cheek and touched the skin where he had kissed her, feeling as though she was twenty years younger again melting at his touch like this. But then Bill Clinton always did know how to have this effect on her. From that very first day in the library she knew something inside of them both had latched together, connecting them so deeply their hearts just didn’t quite know how to function without the other. She also knew that despite everything that had happened between them, she wouldn’t have it any other way.  
  
She quickly turned on her heel and spoke before he could reach the door, “I love you too.”  
  
Bill lit up inside as her voice met his ears. _She never could resist having the last word_ , he smiled to himself, turning to her unable to wipe the cheesy grin off his face. The moment hung in the air between them before Hillary spoke again, knowing full well if one of them didn’t break the silence they would end up standing there all day. And they did after all have a country to run.  
  
“So…now we’ve got that sorted I guess you can stop sending them then?” She raised her eyebrow playfully, walking back around her desk and crossing her legs as she sat down.  
  
“Maybe,” Bill teased, shrugging his shoulders before slipping out the door, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”  
  
He didn’t want to stop leaving her roses yet, he was having too much fun with it and besides, it distracted him from the Richard issue. So he carried on. Thirteen roses, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Each in a more amusing place than the last as he challenged himself to make her laugh and brighten her day. His personal favorite was the one he managed to slip into the buttonhole of one of her blazers, something Hillary didn’t notice until much later in the day when someone finally pointed it out to her before she was about to make a public speech. She had gone to find Bill after that particular incident and swatted him with the rose playfully. They laughed about it and together late into the night, blissfully content in each others company as the hours flew by and the rest of the world melted away around them.  
  
It wasn’t until the seventeenth rose, that everything would suddenly come crashing down around them once again…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who's reading/commenting/enjoying this story and sorry about the cliffhanger! I should be able to update again over the weekend sometime hopefully, I'll try my best not to keep you in suspense for too long!


	8. Red Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you so much everyone who's reading and commenting on this story! I think it's kind of coming to a bit of an end now, although if people are still enjoying it then I do have a couple of ideas for a few more chapters before it finishes, so please do let me know what you think! :)

It was early afternoon, and in the final minutes of his lunch break Bill had slipped upstairs to the second floor of the White House to carefully place the seventeenth rose in Hillary’s bedroom. He whistled as he walked through the grand halls, feeling like a hopelessly-in-love student again as he carried out his little romantic gestures. Things between him and Hillary were improving by the day. They were talking more, and not just as the President and First Lady but as _them_. As just Hillary and Bill, reminiscing about their younger life together, laughing and sharing stories about the people they met with and the interactions and conversations that colored their working days. They shared their meals together again and began spending more evenings together, which usually just involved sitting for hours in absolute silence while they each engrossed themselves in the work they cared so much about, but the silence was comfortable now and they always shared it happily.  
  
These were small steps of course, they both knew they had a long road ahead of them to repair their broken trust, but Bill remained hopeful that this was the start of a new beginning for them. A new season in their relationship.  
   
_But for a new season to begin, the old one has to end._  
  
Bill reached the bedroom and turned the door handle, stepping inside. As soon as the door shut behind him he sensed something wasn’t right. The atmosphere in the room felt off and he could hear a heavy shuffling coming from the far corner, a presence he knew instantly was not Hillary.  
  
He flicked the lights on and watched as the bright glass bulbs on the ceiling cast their warm light over the room revealing a tall figure slouched over the wardrobe in the corner. The intruder flinched as the room was suddenly lit up, but he did not immediately turn around which unnerved Bill a little. However as he stepped closer and realized what the intruder was doing; fishing through the intimate silk and lace garments in Hillary’s underwear drawer, Bill’s apprehension quickly turned to rage and he dragged the man away from the wardrobe and roughly shoved him against the wall.  
  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”  
  
He turned the man sharply around to face him and recognized his dark features instantly in disgust, “Richard…”  
  
Richard smirked his usual arrogant smile, “oh so you know my name then huh, Mr President?” His tone was mocking, and his apparently casual demeanor only angered Bill further.  
  
Bill clenched his fists tightly by his sides and tried to contain his rage. He noticed Richard was still holding onto a soft peach colored garment, and Bill roughly grabbed it back from him, ripping it in the process as Richard continued to keep a tight grip on the silky fabric.  
  
“Get your filthy fucking hands off of my wife’s private things.”  
  
Richard’s eyes gleamed, he was going to enjoy taunting Bill.  
  
“So…if you know who I am then I’m guessing she told you where else my hands have been? Did she tell you how much she loved it Bill? How it felt having someone pressed all over her who actually knew how to touch her for a change?” He toyed with the piece of silk still in his hands as he spoke, bringing it up to his face and inhaling the scent.  
  
Bill finally saw red. Unable to hold back his anger any longer he lashed out and punched Richard hard in the face. The force of the blow knocked him to the floor, crashing against Hillary’s dressing table along the way. No sooner had Richard dragged himself back upright again Bill had slammed another clenched fist into his now bleeding nose, swiftly grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the wall.  
  
“If you ever dare-“ Bill struck another blow “-touch my wife again-“ and another “-I swear to god I-“  
  
Meanwhile outside in the hallway Hillary just happened to be passing through the second floor when she heard the commotion. The raised voices and crashing sounds alarmed her and she ran towards the sound of the disturbance, leading her into her own bedroom.  
  
She shrieked at the sight that met her eyes; the room in disarray and Bill red in the face as he relentlessly beat Richard to the floor, white hot rage in his eyes and blood on his fists.  
  
“Bill! Stop!” Hillary cried out. On hearing her voice Bill was momentarily snapped out of his anger and Richard took advantage of his distraction to finally get a punch in of his own.  
  
“Stop it!” She yelled again as Bill lunged back at Richard she raced between them and desperately tried to separate the fight. Taking hold of Bill’s shoulders her shining blue eyes pleaded with him for a split second, but Richard hadn’t anticipated her quick movements and she was suddenly caught in the line of fire as his next hit aimed at Bill struck her instead.  
  
The edge of his fist came into contact with back of her head with a sharp sting and she cried out in pain, the unexpectedness of the blow sending her falling to the floor. Bill rushed to her side and held her close, gently clutching her golden haired head to his chest and rubbing her back comfortingly.  
  
Richard towered over the pair of them now on the floor, a sickeningly triumphant look on his face.  
  
“Not so untouchable now are you? Miss High-And-Mighty Rodham.”  
  
On hearing those words Hillary gasped, a memory suddenly clicking into place in her mind. Her mind raced and the pain in her head was temporarily forgotten as she suddenly realized she knew exactly who Richard was.  
  
“What did you say?” She gasped in shock, sitting bolt upright before climbing to her feet.  
  
Richard shifted on the spot, realizing he’d blown his own cover. Hillary was now almost at eye level with him and she stepped closer to really look properly at his face for the first time. Studying his features began to evoke long distant memories in her, and her mind flashed back to over 30 years ago…  
  
_A fourteen year old high school student collecting books from her locker; her hair long and straight and her vision slightly blurred from her insistent refusal to wear the glasses she very much needed. A boy approached her from behind and snaked his hands around her slim waist, pulling him towards her._  
  
_“Hey Hillary,”_  
  
_The young girl jumped a little at the sudden unwanted invasion of her personal space._  
  
_“Oh, um, hey Jason…”_  
  
_“You look good today.”_  
  
_She smiled nervously, tucking a strand of soft hair behind her ear, “oh…thanks!” She clutched her books to her chest and made her move to walk away, but Jason stepped in front of her again and blocked her path._  
  
_“Listen, you know junior prom is coming up and I’m guessing you don’t have a date yet-“ Hillary frowned a little at his assumption but let him continue, “-and so I was wondering if you wanna go with me?”_  
  
_A pause. Hillary blinked down at the cover of her math book as she tried to figure out how to answer._  
  
_“Um…well that’s…that’s sweet of you Jason but…I’m actually just going with friends. To tell you the truth, I’m not really looking for a boyfriend or anything right now.”_  
  
_She stepped aside and hurried down the hallway to greet her friends before Jason could say any more. He watched her go, noticing the quickness in her steps and feeling humiliated._  
  
_For the remainder of the semester Jason and his gang of friends had taunted Hillary at any given opportunity for daring to turn him down. Cruel nicknames were thrown in her direction whenever their paths collided in the hallways and on their way to class._  
  
_Frigid_  
  
_Bitch_  
  
_Stuck up_  
  
_Freak_  
  
_High and mighty_  
  
_The words hurt, but Hillary had tried her best not to let them affect her and as the years went by she had virtually completely pushed the memories from her mind._  
  
Until today.  
  
“Jason?” She gasped in disbelief, finally drawing the correct name from the depths of her memory to match the face now standing before her. “It…it _is_ you isn’t it?”  
  
A looked flashed through his dark eyes as though he was considering denying it, but ultimately he knew that would be pointless now. “Nice of you to finally recognize me, Hillary.” He spat out each syllable of her name as if it left a sour taste. She shook her head in complete shock, her mouth poised ready to speak but she found no words came out. Eventually it was Bill who finally broke the stunned silence.  
  
“I’m sorry what the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck is Jason? I thought this was Richard, the guy who attacked you?”  
  
Hillary’s fixed gaze still hadn’t left Jason. After weeks of avoiding ever having to make eye contact with this monster she now found herself unable to break it, the memories swirling through her brain holding her in a trance.  
  
“It is.” She mumbled in a small voice, “I didn’t realize…he must have changed his name and…I mean it’s been so many years I didn’t…I didn’t recognize him…I guess I never really looked properly enough…”  
  
Jason snarled back, “oh and that’s just you all over isn’t it, Hillary? Far too important and cut above the rest of us to even _glance_ at some low level staff scum like me isn’t that right? Oh but you’re looking now aren’t you? _Now_ you’re paying attention. Shame I didn’t realize all those years ago what it would take to get you off your high horse and finally take notice of me.”  
  
Hillary was stunned, the unfairness and untruth of his judgements hitting her hard. These preconceived ideas that people had about her had been repeated time and time again ever since she entered public life; that she was cold, uncaring, a fake, elitist, self important. Traits she had never considered to be part of her personality and yet as the years went by and they continued to be pushed upon her over and over again, somewhere in the back of her mind a small part of her couldn’t help beginning to doubt herself. _What if they’re right about me after all? What if I am all those things they say I am and I just don’t see it?_  
  
Bill, growing ever impatient with the confusing turn this had taken cut through the silence again.  
  
“Will SOMEBODY explain to me what the hell is going on? Hillary who is this guy?”  
  
Hearing Bill say her name brought Hillary out of her thoughts and she finally turned around to face him. “He’s…we were at high school together and he…he asked me out. But I said no.”  
  
Jason stepped in towards Hillary again, trying to pull her focus back from Bill and slipping a hand around her waist just as he had done all those years ago. “Yeah well don’t worry I soon learned from that mistake, and the next chance I got I didn’t bother with the asking part, did I Hillary?”  
  
He tried to move his hand lower, caressing her skin through her clothes when Hillary sharply turned on her heel to face him again and very suddenly slapped him so hard that he stumbled backward.  
  
“Get your hands off of me. You are not entitled to me, don’t you ever,  _e v e r_   touch me again.”  
  
Her knees were shaking as she spoke but she was determined to remain strong and stand her ground this time. This had to end.  
  
Bill joined Hillary by her side and squared up to Jason. “You heard her. Now get out of this house.”  
  
Jason blinked at them both for a moment; the President and the First Lady, the country’s most powerful couple. They stood strong together hand in hand with bated breath, wondering whether he would dare to strike back. But he didn’t. He was outnumbered and outwitted in every single sense, and he knew it. Finally, he ran defeated from the room and Hillary and Bill collapsed into the safety of each others arms and let the relief wash over them. He was gone. 


	9. Moving Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who commented on the last chapter, I've got a much clearer idea of where this is headed and plotted out how it's going to end now, so there will be a couple more chapters still to come! And sorry for the delay in posting this, I had an assignment to write that I thought would take about two hours and ended up taking nearly three days! But it's finally done now so here we go...!

The following morning Hillary got up with a freshly renewed determination in her step. After their altercation with Jason Bill had been required to attend a crucial meeting, and Hillary assured him it was far more important for him to be there and fulfill his duties as president than to stay with her. Once she had finally convinced him that she would be fine by herself for the evening he left, leaving her with plenty of peace and quiet to sit and think things through.  
  
She began to put the bedroom back together again, replacing the perfumes and lotions that had been knocked from her dressing table back to their rightful positions, and reordering the books that had fallen from their shelves as the two men had shoved each other against them. She emptied the contents of her underwear drawer into a laundry bag and took it down to a trusted member of staff to discreetly have them all cleaned, as she couldn’t be sure which ones Jason had touched when he had rifled through them. The tidying was therapeutic, and as she cleared the room she also found her thoughts cleared, and she finally made a decision on what she realized she wanted to do next.  
  
And so bright and early the next morning she marched straight into the lounge that had become Bill’s sleeping quarters, swinging the door open and launching right into what she had to say.  
  
“Okay so Bill, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and-“  
  
Hillary stopped mid sentence as her eyes caught up with her mouth and she realized she had caught him in the middle of getting dressed. She blushed and bit her lip, “oh! Sorry um-I probably should have knocked.”  
  
Bill laughed and was quick to reassure her, “honey it’s okay you don’t need to knock! We are married, it’s not like there’s anything you haven’t seen before!”  
  
Her cheeks flushed again and she managed a small nervous giggle, but still averted her eyes while he finished getting himself dressed. Once he was decent, he sat back down on the couch where he'd slept and invited her to join him.  
  
“So, what were you going to say? Before I so rudely interrupted you with my state of undress?” He added, grinning at her.  
  
Hillary rolled her eyes and hid a smile, trying her best not to let herself get distracted from what she came to tell him.  
  
“I’ve been thinking long and hard…and I’ve changed my mind. I think we should go to the police.”  
  
Bill blinked, he wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting her to say but it hadn’t been that. But then, he knew by now if there was one thing about he could always rely on Hillary to do it was to surprise him. She was rarely predictable, it was one of the many things he loved about her. He took hold of her hand and looked deep into her piercing blue eyes.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes.” Hillary nodded firmly, squeezing his hand. “Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about all of the rape and sexual assault cases I had worked on back in the law firm in Arkansas. Y’know in so many of them the perpetrators were re offenders; they nearly always had a history of some kind of assault that would come out later on in the case in one way or another. And I would always find myself thinking how if only they'd been brought to justice the first time, someone else’s suffering could have been spared. And now that’s exactly what’s happening with me. If I don’t face up to this now and report him then all I’m really doing is passing that role to somebody else further along the line, and I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I have to do everything I can to make sure he doesn’t hurt anybody else like this ever again.”  
  
Bill was momentarily speechless with the awe he felt for this incredible woman, her strength and the selfless kindness in her heart never failed to take his breath away.  
  
“I love you so much, you know that?” He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, “if that’s what you want to do then of course I’ll support you one hundred percent of the way.”  
  
Hillary smiled, relieved of his support, “I know it’s not going to be easy and people are going to ask questions, but I can handle that. I mean I’ve already been handling it for the last twenty years, so what’s one more round.” She joked, trying to make light of the situation. But Bill could sense the nervousness in her voice. She never had been able to hide anything from him. The rest of the world maybe, but never him.  
  
“I promise you honey I’ll do everything in my power to make sure this is handled as discreetly and painlessly as possible.”  
  
“I know you will.”  
  
Bill glanced at the clock on the mantle. 7:25am. The majority of White House staff would be up by now, but they still had around 30 minutes before any government officials attending meetings would swarm through the doors of their home.  
  
“Are you-are you ready now? Because I can make a call to the head of security and get a warrant issued for Richa- I mean for Jason’s arrest right now if you’re sure and you feel ready for that?”  
  
Hillary drew in a sharp breath before slowly nodding again, “yes. I’m ready.”  
  
_‘Better my pain now than somebody else's later’_ she repeated like a mantra in her head, willing herself to go through with what she knew was right.  
  
He held her hand tight as he led her into the Oval Office to sit with him while he made the call. She listened to his grave words and watched the expression of intense concentration on his face as he informed the head of security of the situation. She was grateful for his discretion as he stated ‘assault’ as the primary charge against Jason, not specifying the horribly humiliating type of assault it had been. Yet. She knew that was ultimately still to come, especially if the case went to court.  
  
_Better my pain now than somebody else’s later_  
  
“Well?” She breathed nervously, as Bill ended the call and replaced the telephone receiver.  
  
“If he dares to show up for his shift tonight they’ll arrest him on sight. If not, there's a search warrant out already and what with him being White House staff they’re pretty confident they should be able to track him down before the day is out.”  
  
Hillary exhaled deeply, a combination of relief and anxiety of what still lay ahead flooding through her. She suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around Bill, hugging him close. He returned her embrace straight away, holding and comforting her, stroking her golden hair and never wanting to let her go.  
  
Eventually they pulled apart, and Hillary smoothed out the creases in his shirt that their hug had caused and straightened his tie out of habit.  
  
“Thank you.” She whispered.  
  
Bill watched her go as she turned around and headed out of the Oval Office. She was almost at the door when he suddenly remembered something else he had been meaning to speak with her about.  
  
“Oh wait, honey-!” He darted round the side of the desk and swiftly knocked a neatly stacked pile of papers to the floor in his haste. Hillary turned around and had to suppress a giggle at the sight of him bending to the floor frantically gathering up all the sheets he had just sent flying.  
  
“Let me help you,” she headed back toward the mess he had just created and joined him in picking the papers up.  
  
“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly once they had collected all the papers back up and replaced them on the desk, “I just remembered something important I wanted to ask you.”  
  
Hillary raised her eyebrow questioningly as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flyer printed with bold blue lettering.  
  
“So, I know it may not be the perfect time for this now, what with everything else going on…but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the past 25 years it’s that there rarely is a perfect time for anything. There’s just whatever time we have and how we choose to make the best of it, right?”  
  
“Right…?” Hillary nodded back, trying to work out where he was going with this. She glanced at the flyer in his hands trying to read some of the words but his fingers were covering most of the letters.  
  
“Well I’ve been doing a lot of thinking too, about what you said to me; how words weren’t going to be enough this time, and you’re right. I can’t keep drawing you back to me on a empty promise of change, I need to really _make_ change. So I’ve been doing some research of who the best person to help us could be and…”  
  
His voice trailed off and he thrust the flyer into her hand to finish his explanation for him instead.  
  
**_Marriage Counseling_**  
  
Hillary eyed the two words skeptically. She had never been a fan of the idea of counseling, for herself at least. If it worked for others then great, she was all for it, and would never hesitate to recommend it as an option to anyone in need. But for her personally she just wasn’t the type to sit around pouring her feelings out to a complete stranger. And how did they even know they could trust this person? They already had so many enemies wanting to drag their names further through the mud, it seemed like such a risk to volunteer even more weakness to someone who’s loyalties may not necessarily even be with them, or could easily be bought.  
  
"And," Bill continued, reading her doubts and knowing he needed to build his case, “this particular counselor I found doesn’t just specialize in infidelity, but she’s also renowned and highly well regarded for her work with victims of sexual abuse and assault. I think she could really help.”  
  
Hillary winced at his use of the word victim, she hated to see herself like that and didn’t want anyone else to either. Bill saw her reaction and hastily continued.  
  
“It wouldn’t be like you’re thinking I swear, she’s not going to feel sorry for you or pity you. You’d just be able to…talk things over and get some proper support. And it would be completely one hundred percent confidential because anyone in the White House who knew who we were speaking to will just assume it’s all about me and our marriage.”  
  
Hillary finally looked back up from the flyer to Bill’s hopeful expression, eagerly awaiting her response.  
  
“I don’t know Bill-“ She began, before he suddenly stopped her mid sentence. He knew all too well that when Hillary was put on the spot to answer a potentially life changing question, she tended to lean towards saying no.  
  
“You don’t have to answer now, just promise me you’ll think about it?”  
  
Hillary looked up into his kind eyes, pleading with her. The very same eyes full of hope and love and plans that she had gazed into over twenty years ago, surrounded by the beauty of the lakes in England where he had asked her a very different question. Those eyes were much older and wiser now, weathered by the trials and turmoil of the life they had endured and the weight of the responsibility they shouldered, but still always the same eyes to her. Despite her doubts, she had always come back to him and she knew deep in her heart that she always would.

Finally, she gave her answer, echoing the very same thoughts that had run through her mind on the shores of Lake Ennerdale all those years ago.  
  
“Just give me time.”


	10. Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey :) So I hope this next chapter isn't too boring or anything, it's kind of a lot of information in one go but it hopefully helps move the story forward. Also slight disclaimer that I've tried to research this as best I could but I'm not a lawyer or law student or anything so this may not be entirely true to how it would actually work! But hey, they are the president and first lady so it could well be dealt with slightly differently to normal! 
> 
> Anyway, as always thank you for all your comments and everything I really appreciate them :)

Neither Bill nor Hillary attempted to bring up the idea of marriage counseling again, and the two of them parted ways after their conversation in the Oval Office to each get on with their own busy morning schedules. Bill knew Hillary well enough not to push her in her decision making, knowing it usually took her a little more time than him to properly think things over and carefully weigh up all the pros and cons. But he trusted that she would eventually reach the same conclusion he had; that they had far more to gain by trying this than to lose.  
  
The morning sped by, a productive buzz of activity eating away at the hours as meetings were chaired, telephone conversations held, speeches written, and events planned. By 2pm Bill had finally managed to find ten minutes to himself to eat a sandwich when the telephone rang. He answered it and immediately recognized the voice on the other end of the line as the White House head of security.  
  
“We’ve got him.”  
  
Bill drew in a sharp breath, “where is he?”  
  
“He’s being held at the station now to await questioning. We found him in his apartment and told him we were arresting him on suspicion of physical assault against the First Lady. He looked pretty surprised to see us actually, I think it’s safe to say he wasn’t expecting police involvement so he wasn’t on his guard. He barely said two words on the way to the station but he’s livened up a bit now, ranting and raving about his rights and his rank in the White House security detail to anyone who will listen.”  
  
There was a pause and Bill waited for him to continue, sensing there was more to come.  
  
“You should know,” He continued slowly, “that he is denying all charges.”  
  
Bill’s heart sank, although he had really expected this it still came as quite a blow. If Jason didn’t plead guilty then the case would go to trial, and both he and Hillary knew all too well from their vast experience being on the other side of those proceedings that it would be a lengthy, messy, and painful process for justice that may not even be served. Bill wanted to try and protect Hillary from the ordeal of a court case and the inevitable possibility of the press becoming involved at all costs.   
  
The head of security’s voice carried on explaining on the other end of the line, snapping Bill out of his thoughts.  
  
“But we are doing our utmost to build a case against him, sir. We’ve seized any potential evidence from his apartment, most notably some locked suitcases which our team at the station are currently working on getting open as we speak. We’re also optimistic that his timesheet from the day of the incident will confirm his whereabouts at the time of the attack, we’re just on our way back to the White House now to pick up that information.”  
  
“Right.” Bill nodded, “I’ll speak with the shift coordinator and have that ready for you to collect on your arrival.”  
  
“Perfect. Is Hillary with you?”  
  
“I think she’s down in Hillaryland. I haven’t seen her since this morning, I think she wanted to keep busy.”  
  
“Okay, well you might need to fetch her. I’m bringing the officer who carried out the arrest back to the White House with me and he’s going to need to take a full statement from Hillary before we can formally proceed with Jason’s questioning.”  
  
“Of course. I’ll let her know and bring her up to the Oval now.”  
  
“Great, I’ll see you shortly then Mr President.”  
  
“See you shortly. And thank you.”

  
________________________

  
Bill and Hillary sat anxiously on the pristine upholstery of the couch in the Oval Office awaiting the arrival of the head of security and police officer. Moments later, the two men walked into the room and Hillary shot up out of her seat anxiously.  
  
“Where is he?” She glanced over the officer’s shoulders in a panic as though she expected Jason to appear behind them at any moment.  
  
Bill got up and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “honey it’s okay he’s not here, I told you he’s being detained at the station remember.”  
  
Hillary went red and hastily took her seat again, “I-I know I just-sorry I…“  
  
Her voice trailed off and the police officer stepped in, “Mrs Clinton we understand how difficult this must be for you, but you have our absolute word that we are going to do everything in our power to make sure this man doesn’t hurt you or anybody else ever again, okay?”  
  
She nodded and Bill took hold of her hand comfortingly, after gesturing for the two men to take a seat opposite them.   
  
“Has the President explained everything I told him over the phone?”  
  
Hillary nodded again, finding her usual confidant ease at spilling out exactly what was on her mind had completely abandoned her. The police officer took a sheaf of papers out from his briefcase and laid them out on the table in front of them.   
  
“We need to take a full statement from you before we can proceed with questioning the accused. We can either video tape a verbal statement, or you can make a written one. Whichever is your preference.”  
  
“A written one.” Hillary responded firmly, the mere thought of having to hear herself speak aloud every detail of that night sent an uncomfortable shiver running through her. The officer nodded, and handed her a pen and a form from the papers in front of him.   
  
“I know this isn’t easy, but we are going to need you to be as detailed and specific as possible.”  
  
“I know.” Hillary replied in a small voice.  
  
“If you’re ready, it’s best we begin straight away?”  
  
Hillary stared quietly down at the blank paper in front of her. Bill squeezed her hand in support, “I’m right here honey, you can do this. Just take your time.”  
  
She looked from the concerned face of her husband beside her to the serious faces of the two men in front of her, and suddenly froze in hesitation before picking up the pen.   
  
“…Just give me a minute.”  
  
She quickly dashed out of the room and headed straight to the nearest washroom, splashing her face with cold water at the sink. The icy water soothed the heat of her skin in her nervous state and she leaned her forehead against the mirror.  
  
 _“For gods sake Hillary, get it together,”_ she scolded herself under her breath before lifting her face up again and studying her reflection. She looked deep into her own eyes and saw all the pain and fear and shame that she’d seen so many times before in the eyes of the many women she had once represented as a lawyer. She had always been so strong for them, keeping a steady head and serving as the voice of reason amidst the chaos of their suffering. She almost didn’t recognize herself now as the woman on the other side of the situation.   
  
She straightened herself up and decided that if she was going to do this, she was going to do it as Hillary the lawyer, and not as Hillary the victim.   
  
She ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it slightly, and buttoned her blazer right to the top. She rubbed off the glossy pink lipstick she had been wearing and cleared her throat before marching right back into the Oval Office and taking her seat again, a steely confidence back in her eyes as she picked up the pen and began to write.

  
________________________

  
Roughly forty minutes of silent writing passed before Hillary ran her eyes over her statement once last time and was finally satisfied that she had given the most accurate and useful account of events that she possibly could.  
  
Bill had glanced at the paper a handful times while she wrote, his heart breaking all over again as phrases caught his eye at random; _‘…forcibly kissed…’ ‘…pinned me against the wall…’ ‘…his hand on my leg…’ ‘…ripped my underwear…’ ‘…I told him to stop…’_ It took all of his strength not to wrap his arms around her and cry for her right there and then, but he knew he had to be strong. She needed him to be as strong as she was pretending to be.  
  
“There.” Hillary finished reading and neatly shuffled the papers together, handing them back to the officer. “That should be everything you need.”  
  
“Thank you, Mrs Clinton.” The officer neatly filed the papers into his briefcase and then hesitated. “There is actually just one more thing we need, although it may be too late to salvage any evidence from them but…do you by any chance still have the clothing you were wearing on the night of the assault?”  
  
Everyone looked at her expectantly and Hillary blinked, trying to think back over what she had done after she got back into the safety of her bedroom that night. _She remembered crying. She remembered being sick. She remembered that shower so hot it almost burned her skin. She remembered going to see Bill, and she remembered crawling into bed._ What _had_ she done with her clothes?  
  
Her memory eventually clicked into place as she remembered waking up the next morning and seeing her clothes in a crumpled pile on the floor, shoving them into a plastic bag and burying them deep in the back of her wardrobe. She quickly stood up and assured the officer she’d be right back, before dashing out of the Oval Office and up to her bedroom. She flung the wardrobe doors open and rummaged through the various bags and boxes in there for a moment before finally finding what she was looking for. She quickly glanced inside the plastic bag to check it was the right one and found her stomach turning as she saw the now creased blazer and skirt again for the first time since that night.   
  
Hillary hurried back down the stairs and re-entered the Oval Office moments later, armed with the plastic bag before dumping it on the table in front of the police officer.   
  
“That’s what I was wearing.”   
  
The officer glanced into the bag hopefully, “have they been washed or handled by anyone else since?”  
  
Hillary shook her head, “I didn’t really want to see them again so I just kind of…left them.”  
  
The officer glanced at the White House head of security and nodded before turning back to Hillary, “that’s good news, that means we have a much higher chance of salvaging any evidence they might still hold. We’ll take them to the lab and start testing on them right away, with your permission of course?”  
  
Hillary nodded her consent and the officer sealed the bag carefully before collecting his files and standing up.   
  
“Thank you, you’ve been extremely helpful ma’am. That’s all we need for the time being. We’ll keep you both closely informed of any further developments.” He offered his hand to Bill and then Hillary, and then headed swiftly out of the room.


	11. Remembering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter but with a little bit of fluff mixed in seeing as the last few chapters have been getting a little heavy!

The rest of the day crawled by slowly, and both Hillary and Bill stayed anxiously close to the telephone as they each worked through their busy schedules. The minutes and hours ticked by but the phone never rang, and they eventually decided to call it a day and reluctantly came to the conclusion that no news hopefully meant good news.  
  
At around 9pm they both finally sat down to eat dinner in the privacy of their living area on the second floor. Chelsea was at a friend’s for the evening, as both Hillary and Bill had been gently encouraging her to spend more time with her friends lately, to avoid her sensing the shift in atmosphere between her parents. The last thing in the world Hillary wanted was for her daughter to discover what had really happened to her mother and to be caused any more pain. She had already suffered through enough when the news of the affair went public, and if she could do nothing else Hillary knew she had to shield her daughter from this.  
  
So it was just the two of them sat round the table together, mostly in silence, twirling spaghetti around silver forks. Bill noticed Hillary wasn’t eating much, and his brow creased with worry as he watched her push her food around her plate, deep in thought. There was so much he wanted to say to her and yet he didn’t know how to even begin putting it into words. Eventually however, the silence became too much for him to bear and his voice finally cut through the sounds of cutlery moving against the china as he finally spoke.  
  
“I um, I saw some of what you wrote in your statement earlier.”  
  
Hillary looked up at him in surprise, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were staring down into his plate, brimming with all the sadness and regret that he was trying to hide from her. But of course she saw it all anyway.  
  
“Bill, I-“  
  
“I should have protected you, Hillary. I’m so sorry. You never should have had to go through that, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.”  
  
“Bill listen to me, there’s nothing you could have done, okay? Even if all that other stuff hadn’t been going on between us at the time, how could you have known? This wasn’t your fault Bill, I won’t let you take this on your shoulders.”  
  
She set her fork down and slipped her hand over his, just as he had done for her so many times over this past week. He placed his other hand over hers gratefully but still didn’t look up. Hillary began to fear that she was really losing him and she couldn’t bear for that to happen. Not now. Not over this.  
  
“Please look at me Bill.” Her voice became choked up with tears, sending a heavy ache shooting through Bill’s heart. “You promised me you wouldn’t let this change the way you look at me, you promised. Show me you’re going to keep your promise Bill, please.”  
  
He slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers, trying his utmost to ensure his expression showed her that the love and respect he felt for her remained unwavering.  
  
“I’m so sorry Hill.”  
  
“Shh, Bill you don’t need to keep apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry for.”  
  
Bill raised his eyebrow slightly and Hillary bit her lip, realizing what she’d just said and almost finding herself laughing despite everything. The atmosphere between them relaxed a little.  
  
“I mean…obviously you do have _some_ things to be sorry for…but not this okay? This isn’t on you.”  
  
Bill nodded slowly then raised his hand to gently cup her cheek, his gaze locked deep with hers.  
  
“You know this isn’t on you either right? This wasn’t your fault Hillary, you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty or ashamed of.”  
  
Hillary sighed heavily, wishing with all her heart she could fully believe what he was saying.  
  
“I know.”  
  
_Just keep on saying it and one day you might just believe it._

  
  
__________________________

  
  
By the time they finished dinner it was late, and as they were still sleeping in separate bedrooms they said their goodnights and parted ways. Hillary watched somewhat sadly as Bill headed off down the hallway away from her, before she retreated back into the comfort of their bedroom. She kicked off her shoes and opened the curtains a little to let in some moonlight, before slipping into the bathroom to remove her make up and contacts and quickly showering.  
  
Once she had finished she returned to the bedroom, the darkened surroundings now relatively blurry without her contacts and she tiptoed her way across the floor to the bed when her bare foot suddenly stepped on something sharp.  
  
“Ow!” She squealed at the sharp pinch into her skin. She bent down curiously, picking up the offending item and gasped when she saw it was a slightly disheveled red rose. She realized this must have been what Bill was delivering to her when he had found Jason intruding in her room yesterday.  
  
Hillary brought the flower close to her face and inhaled its sweet scent, faded slightly from a day spent trampled on the floor out of water, but still there all the same. She closed her eyes and her mind took her right back to the first ever time Bill had given her roses...  
  
_Yale Law School, 1971_  
  
_A knock sounded on her dormitory door and she leaped off her bed, knocking several piles of books flying to the floor in the process._  
  
_“Just coming!”_  
  
_She swung open the door to reveal Bill Clinton, with dark thick hair almost longer than her own, and a messy and unshaved beard. He wore a flannel shirt and held one hand behind his back. Hillary grinned at him happily._  
  
_“Hi.”_  
  
_“Hi.”_  
  
_They stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at each other. They had only been dating for just a few weeks, and yet something about Bill seemed to just take Hillary’s breath away, and he felt exactly the same about her._  
  
_“What are you hiding?” Her eyes wandered to his concealed hand behind his back._  
  
_“Nothing,” Bill smiled, and she raised her eyebrow at him before reaching round to try and grab whatever it was. He was too quick for her though, and he spun around on the spot before she could see anything and backed into the room, her following hot on his heels. They continued play fighting all the way to Hillary’s bed, where they finally collapsed onto the mattress in a fit of giggles._  
  
_“Okay, okay, I give in,” Bill laughed, bringing his hidden hand in front of her to reveal a bunch of sweet smelling crimson roses._  
  
_Hillary gasped and then smirked from behind her thick rimmed glasses, “aren’t red roses a bit of a cliche?”_  
  
_“I like cliche’s.” Bill insisted, his Arkansas drawl and hopelessly romantic cheesy grin melting her heart. She took the bunch of flowers from him and inhaled their sweet scent, before leaning in to kiss his lips softly._  
  
_“Thank you.”_  
  
_“You’re very welcome darlin,”_  
  
_He reconnected their lips and deepened the kiss as they leaned back onto the bed. She ran her fingers through his long hair, pulling him closer toward her as his hands began to travel south down her body. She moaned softly into his mouth, and her grip loosened around the bunch of roses in her other hand. She suddenly broke the kiss and slid neatly out from under him and jumped off the bed._  
  
_“Just a minute. I need to find some water for these.”_  
  
_Bill groaned at the loss of contact, “well be quick darlin’, the bed already feels colder without you.”_  
  
_She smiled back at him teasingly, “I’m afraid it’s your own fault for bringing me such high maintenance flowers!”_  
  
_“Well in that case next time it looks like I’m bringing you a cactus. Maybe a even a plastic one, just to be on the safe side.”_  
  
_“How romantic.” She emphasized sarcastically with a giggle, before turning her attention back to the cupboard she was trying to open. She was slightly too small to easily reach the handle, and had he been in a more coherent state of mind Bill probably would have offered to help her. But he was rather struck dumb in that moment, his eyes transfixed on the sight of her climbing up on the counter in her little white shorts, the creamy skin of her back exposed as she reached into the cupboard and started pulling things out until she finally found what she was looking for. He grinned in amusement as she hopped off the counter again clutching a purple cylinder cookie jar. She emptied its contents onto a plate, sending a couple of stray cookies falling to the floor in the process as the plate piled high. Then she filled the jar with water at the sink and dumped the roses neatly into it._  
  
_“Are vases going out of fashion?” Bill joked as she sat back down on the bed beside him along with the plate of cookies._  
  
_Hillary rolled her eyes with a laugh, “y’know strangely enough I didn’t think to bring a vase with me to law school Bill. I guess I didn’t plan on some smooth talking southern guy showering me with romantic cliches.”_  
  
_“Well you’re certainly very resourceful,” he nodded at the now flower-filled cookie jar, “you never know, that might just catch on as the latest trend in home decor!”_  
  
_She giggled and passed him the plate of cookies, “well in the meantime you’re gonna need to help me eat these before they go stale, seeing as you’re the one responsible for evicting them from their home in the jar.”_  
  
_“I’m always up for eating cookies,” he laughed, before leaning into her ear and whispering in a lower husky voice, “although, I can think of something I’d much rather be eating.”_  
  
_Hillary blushed the same deep shade as the roses, his words hitting her in a wave of heat right between her thighs. She looked into his eyes, filled with desire and need, and he recaptured her lips in a heated kiss, both quickly forgetting all about the cookies as their bodies entwined together and they fell backward onto the bed..._  
  
The memory sent all kinds of unearthed emotions searing through Hillary, and she held the rose close to her chest. She drew in a breath and wiped a single tear from her cheek. She loved Bill so much, they’d been through everything together and she realized that no matter what had happened between them, what they had was still worth fighting for.  
  
She suddenly knew what she had to do. She grabbed the marriage counseling flyer from her nightstand and slipped into her dressing gown, hurrying downstairs before she could talk herself into changing her mind. She tiptoed down the hall until she reached the lounge where Bill was sleeping, and grabbed a pen from the nearby desk. She wrote a short message on top of the flyer before leaving it beside the pillow where Bill slept for him to find when he woke up.  
  
_“Okay. As soon as this is over, I’ll do it.”_


	12. Evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to update this again, I had a bunch of assignments all due in around the same time so I didn't get to write over the weekend! So again slight disclaimer that this is kind of stretching reality slightly with how the case is being handled...but I mean it is fiction and in their positions they possibly would be granted a few special privileges in a situation like this anyway, who knows!
> 
> Also thank you so much everyone who has left encouraging comments I really appreciate it so much!

Over the next few days everything seemed to go quiet as far as the case was concerned. The police had assured the president and first lady that they would be kept up to date as things progressed, but aside from a brief confirmation that Jason had given his statement they had heard next to nothing. Bill could tell the lack of information was keeping Hillary on edge and he tried his best to keep her distracted. She was still very much a lawyer at heart, and not being in the very thick of these kind of proceedings was a new experience for her, one that she decided she didn’t much like.  
  
So Bill tried his utmost to keep her schedule full and her mind on other things, enlisting her help and opinions on all kinds of legislation and decision making on top of her usual duties as First Lady. He knew that if she was left alone with her thoughts for too long her over-analyzing tendencies and anxiety would begin to to get the better of her, and so he ensured that any free time she did have was as busy as possible. He arranged for them to spend evenings in the White House screening room watching her favorite movies; challenged both her and Chelsea to endless card games around the kitchen table; and even attempted to cook for her one night, which resulted in a great deal of alarm from the White House Head Chef as Bill raided the kitchen for utensils and ingredients then almost set off the fire alarm twice. Still, he did manage to produce a somewhat edible chicken curry, and they ate it together over a candlelit table in their private dining area. The taste of Bill’s over-salted cooking reminded Hillary fondly of their early days back in Arkansas, in that first little house they had shared together all those years ago.  
  
It wasn’t until the evening after Bill’s culinary efforts that they finally received an update on the progress of the case. Hillary happened to be in the Oval Office working late with Bill when the phone rang. At first she didn’t react and remained fully absorbed in the speech she was preparing, assuming the call was simply regarding some ordinary state business. But as soon as Bill heard the head of security’s voice on the other end of the line he quickly beckoned Hillary over and she realized what the call must be. She put her papers down immediately and hurried across the room and perched herself on the edge of his desk, trying to read Bill’s expression for any giveaway signs of whether this was going to be good news or bad news.  
  
“Okay. Mm-hm. Right. Okay thank you.” Bill replaced the receiver after barely 30 seconds and turned to Hillary who was looking up at him questioningly.  
  
“An officer is on his way to see us now. He didn’t want to discuss it over the telephone but it sounds like they’ve found some new evidence.”  
  
Hillary held her breath for a moment and chewed her lip nervously as they waited for the arrival of the officer. Bill watched over her anxiously, and failing being able to come up with something reassuring to say he took hold of her hand comfortingly instead.  
  
Luckily they didn’t have to wait long, and within a few minutes the same officer Hillary had given her statement to the other day knocked and entered the Oval Office carrying a briefcase. Hillary realized as she greeted him that she didn’t know his name and made a mental note to find out.  
  
“Mr President, Mrs Clinton.” The officer nodded respectfully before the three of them took their seats around the table. “So, let me bring you up to speed as to why I’m here. I expect you’ve been wondering why you haven’t heard anything for a few days? Well we had a bit of trouble getting Jason to respond to questioning. He insisted on the presence specific lawyer who wasn’t immediately available to represent him so we had to wait. Now, between you and me we believe he was trying to delay the process, get his story together, but anyway his lawyer finally showed up this morning so we were finally able to question him over the course of this afternoon.”  
  
Hillary shifted in her seat nervously. “And?”  
  
“And, he is still maintaining that he’s innocent, that he didn’t do anything he’s being accused of.”  
  
Hillary’s face fell and her heart sank deep inside her chest. She had been expecting this, but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to hear it confirmed out loud.  
  
The officer saw her reaction and quickly continued. “However, we are still confident that we can build a strong case against him. The time of his shift sign out on the White House timesheet closely matches the timings given in your statement Mrs Clinton, and contradict the much earlier hour he initially claimed to have left the White House that night. Now once we presented him with this evidence he did change his original claim, stating he must have misremembered. But it does cast considerable doubt on his version of events which again strengthens the case against him.”  
  
Bill glanced at Hillary and could tell she was starting to lose hope. He squeezed her hand gently and prompted the officer to continue. “What about that evidence you mentioned over the phone, did they find something on Hillary’s clothes?”  
  
Hillary went a little pale at the mention of her clothes, but the officer shook his head. “Not yet, the lab results still haven’t come back for those. We do have something else though. You might remember we mentioned the other day that we seized some locked suitcases from Jason’s apartment upon his arrest? Well, we’ve finally been able to get them open, and while most of them were either empty or contained nothing of significance, one of them was filled with some pretty incriminating evidence that we believe will be instrumental in proving his guilt.”  
  
He lifted the slim suitcase he had carried in with him onto the table and unlocked the metal latches, pausing before lifting the lid. “Now, technically speaking I of course shouldn’t be showing you this, but given what we found and the public nature of your lives and the high positions you both hold we decided it would be best if you were both made fully aware of the extent of what we found. I trust that this will go no further than these walls?”  
  
Hillary and Bill both nodded. “Of course.”  
  
The two watched with bated breath as the officer lifted the lid of the suitcase and turned it around so that they could see inside it.  
  
Hillary gasped in shock as her eyes fell upon the contents of the suitcase. It was filled with countless photographs of her, clearly taken without her knowledge. She was used to having her picture taken of course, in fact it was rare for her to find herself in a moment _without_ being surrounded by the White House photographers and hoards of press cameras. But these were different, they were scarily…invasive. The majority were zoomed in close on her face and in particular her lips, and taken at angles where the photographer clearly was trying to conceal his actions. Some were even taken through cracks between barely open doors, pictures of her sitting on her husbands desk, close ups of her legs crossed, shots focused on the lower half of her body as she leaned over a filing cabinet or bookshelf. Hillary felt sick to her stomach as she stared open mouthed at the evidence in front of her.  
  
Bill, equally horrified, noticed other various items among the photos. A velvet headband he knew belonged to Hillary, and a set of black lace underwear he also recognized as hers, along with some empty wrappers of her favorite kind of candy. He felt anger course through his veins like fire as he realized the full extent of this man’s fixation on his wife, and the persistent invasion of her privacy he had carried out without her knowledge.  
  
Neither were sure how much time had passed as they stared in horrified silence into the suitcase, but it felt like an eternity. Eventually, Hillary’s voice cut through the silence in a barely recognizable strangled whisper.  
  
“Close it. Please.”  
  
The officer replaced the lid, firmly locking and setting it aside but Hillary’s gaze remained fixed on the same spot the suitcase had just been in. Bill glanced at her and realized he needed to bring her out of her shocked state; all the color had drained from her face and her skin was cold at his touch.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm gently up and down in an attempt both to sooth her and warm her up a little. She responded to his embrace and seemed to come out of her trance slightly, finally turning to face Bill. He could read all the confusion and vulnerability in her shining blue eyes in an instant, and he wished with all his heart there was something he could do to fix all of this for her.  
  
She tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and squeezed Bill’s hand before turning back to the officer. “So-,” her voice cracked and she hastily cleared her throat and tried again, “so where does this leave us? I mean this is pretty conclusive evidence against him.”  
  
The officer nodded. “We haven’t confronted him with it yet, we thought it best to prepare you first. He has no idea we even have it. But it builds a very strong case against him for stalking-“  
  
“Stalking?” Hillary repeated, suddenly snapping back into lawyer mode, “but he’s being tried for assault right? I mean that’s what we reported him for.”  
  
“I realize that was what he was originally reported for...but we can build a much stronger case against him for stalking. This evidence is really provable beyond all reasonable doubt in the eyes of a court and jury, it’s not just your word against his.”  
  
“What exactly are you saying?” Hillary retorted back angrily. “That you don’t believe me?” She could feel herself getting emotional and she tried her best to stay in control, furiously blinking back any tears that dared to form in her eyes.  
  
“Of course we believe you - you’re the First Lady of the United States and a qualified lawyer, and this guy is clearly unhinged and obsessive. But…we can’t be certain that the court will necessarily see it that way. If we go in with something concrete like this we have a much better chance of him being found guilty.”  
  
“But stalking is a completely different crime. If he’s charged with that he might not even have to sign the sex offenders register. Once he finishes serving his time he’ll be a risk to women all over again and all of this will have achieved nothing.”  
  
She paused to take a breath when a different thought suddenly struck her.  
  
“Wait…you’re planning on using this as evidence in court?” Hillary pointed towards the suitcase and the officer nodded.  
  
“Yes ma’am.”  
  
“In front of a jury full of people? There’s no way in hell this wouldn’t be leaked over every front page in the country before the door had even finished swinging on our way out.”  
  
“I do appreciate your concerns Mrs Clinton, but we do still believe this would be our best way forward. But obviously the decision is completely yours to make. Perhaps I should give you some time to think things over.”  
  
Hillary tried to process everything she was hearing. Everything seemed to be moving so fast all of a sudden with new information hitting her from every direction.  
  
Bill took his opportunity to jump in, concerned that Hillary was getting worked up into a distressed state again. “Thank you officer that’s probably a good idea.” He rose to his feet and led him to the door before lowering his voice, “I’ll talk to her.”  
  
The officer nodded then reached into his pocket and handed over his card. “This number will get you through to my direct line. Obviously we won’t act on anything until we have the First Lady’s full consent and agreement, but I would stress that the sooner a decision is made and we can move forward the better.”  
  
Bill nodded his understanding and shook the man’s hand before he turned and made his way out of the office, leaving Hillary and Bill alone.


	13. A Plan

“I’m going to have to do this aren’t I Bill?”  
  
Bill looked up from his paperwork at his wife, who was sat stirring the cup of sweet tea he had brought her but not drinking it. She hadn’t uttered a single word since the police officer had left and Bill hadn’t pressed her for any further conversation, knowing she needed time to process everything they’d discovered. He hadn’t wanted to leave her alone though, so he persuaded her to stay with him in the Oval Office sat on one of the couches until she felt ready to talk.  
  
On hearing her finally speak he immediately put down his pen, wanting to give her his full attention. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do honey.”   
  
A cynical smile passed Hillary’s lips and she let out a somewhat tired sounding version of her signature laugh. “Well that’s a nice enough cliche Bill but unfortunately it’s not true. I mean I didn’t _want_ to do any of this did I? But I still have to. It’s my duty and responsibility whether I want it to be or not.”   
  
Bill didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but she didn’t appear to be waiting for him to answer as she carried right on with her train of thought.  
  
“But just the thought of everyone in that court and on that jury seeing everything that was in that suitcase, and hearing my statement…it’s not like I have any anonymity, _everyone_ knows who I am. And it’ll only be a matter of time before the right price is offered by the press and as usual someone’s story will get bought and it’ll be everywhere in no time at all. Following me around haunting me for the rest of my life and career.”  
  
Hillary rest her head in her hands despairingly and Bill left his desk and hurried over to the couch to be close to her. He hated feeling so powerless. _I’m president of the United States for gods sake,_ he thought to himself angrily, _I should be able to do something._ If he couldn’t help his own wife when she needed him most, he decided he couldn’t really be good for very much.  
  
“He’s right though,” Hillary contemplated, running her fingers through her hair as she so often did when she was stressed, “concrete evidence is our best chance of conviction. Without the suitcase pictures and the stalking charge we’re back to just his word against mine, and I’ve seen too many cases end in a not guilty verdict that way.”  
  
Bill sighed. The frustration was all too familiar. They had both spent enough of their early careers working in law to know exactly how these scenarios played out, and the restricting rigidity and rules of the justice system that had to be adhered to. They had both been through too many a case where the defendant’s guilt seemed clear, but they had gotten off anyway on a mere technicality or lack of evidence. Bill remembered countless nights after losing a case he and Hillary would stay up talking late into the night, fueled by the injustices they encountered and determined that next time would be different. Next time they would win.   
  
And sometimes they did. Often in fact. But not always. And Hillary always did take it upon herself to shoulder all of the responsibility when things didn’t go the way she had anticipated, even though she had always done all she possibly could do to fight for the right outcome.   
  
_But that was then, when they were just two young lawyers starting out in the world. Now they were the President and First Lady of the United States. That surely had to count for something in situations like this…there had to be something they could do._  
  
Bill voiced his thoughts on the matter to Hillary, but she didn’t seem to hold out much enthusiasm for the idea.  
  
“I don’t know Bill…I mean it wouldn’t really be right to take advantage of our positions to influence the case…Besides, what even is there that we could do?”  
  
Bill shrugged, he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “I don’t know.” He admitted, “But there has to be something… And it wouldn’t be so wrong as such, I mean it’s not as though we’d be committing perjury or anything, because you’re the one telling the truth. It’s just a case of ensuring that the truth is what gets heard and justice is served.”  
  
Hillary seemed to be considering this, although she didn’t say anything. Bill absentmindedly pulled out the police officers business card from his pocket and flipped it between his fingers as he continued with his train of thought.  
  
“I guess it’s the case going to trial that’s really the problem…If there was only some way we could prevent that from happening then this could all be dealt with internally. There would be limited people involved and the chances of the press getting hold of any details would be drastically minimized…”  
  
Hillary glanced at the card Bill was holding before gazing off into the distance, deep in thought as Bill spoke. The cogs in the very depths of her quick brain starting to turn and the beginnings of a plan formulated in her mind. An incredibly risky and questionable plan, but still a plan all the same.

It would go against so many of the morals she held so close to the core of her very being...But desperate times called for desperate measures, and this certainly seemed to be a desperate time.  
  
Bill suddenly noticed how strangely quiet Hillary had gone and his voice trailed off. “...Honey? Are you okay?”  
  
Hillary shook herself out of the depths of her thoughts and pasted a smile on her face. “Sure, I’m fine.”  
  
She needed some time to think through what she was planning on doing, and she needed to be alone because she knew that if Bill caught onto even the slightest hint of what her idea was then he would undoubtedly try and stop her.   
  
And so she put her game face on and did her best to avoid his suspicions.  
  
“Actually I think I’m gonna go back down to Hillaryland and get on with a few things. I still have that speech that I was working on before the police officer came by tonight so I should really get that finished.”  
  
Bill dropped the business card onto the side table and turned his attention to watching her carefully as she got up, curious of her sudden change in attitude.   
  
“Are you sure? It’s almost 10pm, and the event you’re preparing it for isn’t till the end of the week right?”  
  
“Well it doesn’t hurt to get ahead with these things.” She insisted. “And besides, we have no way of knowing when we might be called upon by the police again so all the more reason to stay on top of things.”  
  
Hillary gathered up all of her papers, discreetly swiping the police officers business card up from the table along with the rest of her things without Bill noticing. She stuffed the heap of papers and files under her arm and swiftly headed for the door to escape any further questioning.   
  
“I guess…” Bill began, not entirely convinced, “well try not to stay up working too late oka-“  
  
The Oval Office door swung firmly shut behind her and before he could finish his sentence she was gone.

Bill listened to the sound of her heels clicking hurriedly along the corridor outside and into the distance and he sat back in his chair anxiously. He could read her like a book; he always knew the giveaway signs when she was hiding something from him.

Something was definitely up, and he was determined to find out what.


	14. Crossed Wires

Bill struggled to get to sleep that night, he lay awake tossing and turning for hours worrying about Hillary. He knew that she must be planning something, and seeing as she hadn’t been willing to let him in on whatever the plan was he deducted that it must be something she knew he wouldn’t approve of, which only made him worry about her even further.   
  
As soon as the sun rose the next morning and staff began to pour through the White House doors Bill sought out Hillary’s young aide, Alice. Knowing that Hillary had trusted Alice following what had happened with Jason, Bill figured she would be his best bet at figuring out what Hillary was up to and he could ask her to keep a close eye on his wife for him.  
  
He found Alice just as she was headed into Hillaryland and he quickly ushered her into a corner to speak with her.  
  
“Hey, Alice isn’t it? Listen, I’m worried about Hillary.”  
  
“Oh…good morning Mr President.” Alice stammered politely, rather taken by surprise and slightly intimidated as she had not yet personally spoken with the president up until then. “Um…what are you worried about?”  
  
“I don’t know…but I was hoping you might be able to help me find out.”  
  
She peered up at him confused, and he paused before explaining further.  
  
“You understand that everything I’m about to tell you is one hundred percent confidential and not to be repeated to anyone. Only I, Hillary, and two other people know about this, and so if there are any leaks to the press about this situation then we will know immediately that they came from you.”  
  
Alice nodded her assurance. “You can trust me sir. You have my absolute word I would never do anything to compromise Hillary or this administration.”  
  
Bill nodded back, believing her. He knew Hillary picked her confidants well, and if she trusted this girl then he knew that he could too. He quickly relayed the story of all that had happened with Jason, in as a brief detail as possible. Alice drank all the information in keenly, her eyes widening behind her glasses and her heart sinking as she realized her suspicions about what Hillary had gone through had indeed been correct.   
  
“I’ll certainly keep a very close eye on her for you Mr President.”  
  
Bill placed a steady hand on Alice’s shoulder and looked closely into her eyes, “I’m all putting my trust in you Alice, my schedule is jam packed today so you’re going to need to be my eyes and ears for me. If she goes anywhere off-schedule or calls or speaks to anyone suspicious I want to know about it immediately, understand?”  
  
Alice nodded, and Bill swiftly broke the contact between them and hurried back toward the Oval Office as Alice disappeared into the Hillaryland offices.   
  
Unbeknown to the two of them however, Hillary had just at that moment rounded the corner and caught sight of them both at the end of the corridor. Her heart had plummeted deep inside her chest as she saw Bill’s hand on the shoulder of her most trusted aide; girl much younger than herself, and in her opinion arguably more attractive too.

Hillary quickly retreated back around the corner before either of them noticed her presence and she rested her back against the wall, an all too familiar rush of doubt flooding through her mind. She tried to convince herself there could be a thousand perfectly innocent explanations for what she just saw, but Bill’s track record didn’t exactly work very well for her as a source of reassurance or comfort.  
  
In the past she had always tried to stick to her core values of believing the best in people no matter what, but after years of betrayal, lies and humiliation it was becoming harder and harder for her to be that person. Skepticism and mistrust had gradually crept in and made their home in her mind. A place that was once nothing but hopeful and optimistic was now littered with seeds of doubt that only continued to grow, despite her best efforts to stop them.   
  
Distant footsteps and chattering from staff approaching at the other end of the hallway broke Hillary out of her thoughts. She shook herself back to reality and swept into her offices quickly, keeping her expression neutral as she passed Alice at her desk, not wanting to give away her suspicions.   
  
“Good morning Mrs Clinton.” Alice smiled at her warmly before briefing her on a few things regarding the days work ahead.   
  
Hillary returned her greeting but with a distinct lack of the usual friendliness she usually gave off. Alice was a little surprised at her sudden coldness, but decided it must be down to the strain of the case with Jason.   
  
Over the course of that morning both women watched each other closely, though neither having any idea that the other was watching or of their motives for doing so. Hillary looked for all the usual clues in Alice’s behavior; anything to reassure herself that she had been mistaken in what she thought she saw earlier. And Alice watched over Hillary with a great deal of concern, taking the responsibility the president had tasked her with to keep an eye on the First Lady very seriously.   
  
Both were on their guard, and as a result neither really managed to work out very much from the others behavior.   
  
By lunchtime Hillary finally took a break and asked Alice to call down to the kitchen for some sandwiches and fresh fruit. Alice completed the request as Hillary sat back in her chair wearily. Alice could tell she was clearly distracted by something, and she tried to think of a subtle way to find out what it was without overstepping her boundaries.   
  
“Mrs Clinton - Hillary, sorry I know it’s none of my business but are you alright?”   
  
Hillary glanced up, touched by the concern in the girls voice. She managed to smile at her for the first time all morning.  
  
“Yes I’m fine, I just…have a lot on my mind I guess.”   
  
“Is there anything I can help you with?”  
  
Hillary shook her head. “It’s really something I have to deal with by myself.”  
  
Hillary opened her purse and gazed deep in thought at the police officer’s business card tucked into a small compartment in the lining. Alice couldn’t tell what she was looking at from where she was sat across the room, and she tried not to make it obvious that she was watching her.   
  
Hillary ran her fingers over the card and glanced at the clock on the wall. It had taken her all morning to gather enough strength for what she was about to do, and if she didn’t do it soon she knew she would loose her nerve and bottle out altogether.   
  
_It was now or never._  
  
“Actually Alice,” Hillary continued, forcing a brighter tone of voice, “there is one favor you could do for me.”  
  
Alice nodded eagerly and crossed the room, trying to peek a glance at what the First Lady had been looking at in her purse but she quickly hid it back under her desk again.  
  
“Could you just run down to the kitchen and check over the state dinner menus I drafted for next week?”  
  
Alice tried to hide her frown, knowing this was a diversion and Hillary was trying to get rid of her. But she couldn’t very well refuse her boss’s task and so she reluctantly headed towards the door with a nod, keeping Hillary carefully in the sidelines of her vision for as long as she could as she slowly left. Alice just about managed to glimpse Hillary lifting her purse out from under her desk again and pulling out a business card before lifting the telephone and starting to dial. Alice was dying to know who she was calling, but knew she had stalled leaving the room for as long as she could get away with, and so closed the door behind her before she could catch a word of the conversation that would follow.   
  
“Hello, is that Officer Ryan? It’s Hillary. I just was wondering if you could arrange something for me…”

  
  
________________________

  
  
Bill meanwhile, after a long morning cooped up in the Oval Office laboring over legislation had finally been gifted a few precious minutes before his next meeting to check in on Hillary. He hurried down to Hillaryland in such a rush he almost collided with Alice along the way as she was returning with the state dinner menus.   
  
“Oh! I’m terribly sorry Mr President-“  
  
“No, no, don’t worry that was my fault, I had my head so deep in the clouds worrying about Hillary I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He reassured her. “How has she been?”  
  
Alice bit her lip. “I don’t know, she seems…distracted. She’s barely spoken to me all morning which is very unlike her. And then just now-”  
  
“What?” Bill frowned.  
  
“Well I got the distinct impression she was trying to get rid of me. She sent me to fetch the menus for the state dinner but she could have easily had them faxed over, and it’s not like she really needed to check them this far in advance anyway.”  
  
“Do you know what she did after you left?”  
  
“I only know that she made a telephone call. I don’t know who it was to. She dialed the number from a blue business card, but I wasn’t close enough to be able to read the name on it.”  
  
At the mention of the business card a realization clicked into place in Bill’s mind and his brow creased with worry. He realized Hillary must have taken it from the table yesterday without him noticing. Now more determined than ever that she was up to something Bill marched into the office to confront her, with Alice following hot on his heels.  
  
“Hillary what’s going on, is everything okay?” Bill blurted out as he paced into the room causing Hillary to jump in surprise. She eyed them both suspiciously.   
  
_Why had they come in together?_  
  
“I don’t know you tell me?” She replied bluntly, casting her gaze intensely over the two of them.   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
Hillary hesitated, not wanting to involve Alice in her accusations in case she was mistaken. This was between her and Bill. It was always between her and Bill.   
  
“Alice could you please give us a minute?”  
  
Alice nodded, keen to get out of the line of fire between them. Their fiery rows were somewhat legendary among those on the White House staff, and if one was brewing now then she certainly didn’t want to get caught in the middle of it.  
  
Once Alice had left and it was just the two of them, Bill softened his voice.  
  
“Honey I’m worried abou-“  
  
“I saw the two of you this morning.” Hillary cut through his words, wanting to get straight to the point. She studied his reaction closely, trying to match it to the many other convincing performances of denial she'd been given over the years that they’d repeatedly had this conversation. The many other girls names she’d had to confront him with, desperately believing that each one would be the last.   
  
_But of course it never was._  
  
“What?” Bill’s eyebrows shot up in confusion.  
  
“You and Alice.”  
  
A flicker of guilt flashed through Bill’s eyes as he realized what she was talking about. Hillary misread the reasons behind his guilt and thought her worse fears were confirmed; his reaction apparently telling her all that she needed to know.   
  
“After everything that’s happened- how could you?” She cried, trying to hold back her sobs and not even waiting for an answer as she stormed out of the office door furious and broken hearted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are still enjoying this story, please do let me know what you think and I promise I'll update again in the next few days!


	15. The Way We Used To Be

“Honey wait!”  
  
Bill grabbed Hillary’s hand desperately before quickly letting go of it again, realizing he didn’t want to physically force her into staying. He tried to quickly explain himself instead.  
  
“You’ve got this all wrong.”  
  
“Oh have I?”  
  
“I swear, I would never put you through that again.”  
  
“You say that every time Bill, and every time we end up back here.”  
  
“I made you a promise Hillary and I meant it.”  
  
“So why did you look so guilty when I mentioned her name?”  
  
Bill kicked himself inwardly for not thinking through the consequences of his reaction better.  
  
“It was nothing like that I swear to you Hillary.”  
  
Hillary rolled her eyes, “I’ve heard it all before Bill.” She tried to push past him but he stepped in front of her path again.  
  
“Please, just listen to me. I felt guilty because I had asked Alice to keep an eye on you and report back to me, that’s all. I swear. I just didn’t want you to think I was spying on you or anything, especially after…”  
  
His voice trailed off and Jason’s name hung in the air, unspoken. Hillary looked down at the floor letting his explanation sink in for a moment and slowly deciding that he must be telling her the truth. After all, it certainly made logically more sense than her theory, especially considering the progress they had been making. She suddenly felt angry with herself for jumping to conclusions and accusing him.  
  
_But what was she supposed to think? How was she ever supposed to trust him anymore?_  
  
She suddenly fell into Bill’s arms and started to cry against his chest, holding onto him tightly his shirt catching her tears as they fell.  
  
“I hate this Bill.” She managed to say between sobs. “I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to be this person; constantly racked with suspicion and doubt every time I see you so much as look at another woman. I want to be able to trust you again but I just- I don’t know how to fix us…what if we’ve come too far to ever get back to what we used to have and what we used to be?”  
  
Bill felt a tear of his own escape and slide down his cheek as he soothed her cries and cradled her in his arms, his hand protectively holding her head close to him. He hated himself for doing this to her. Abusing the trust of this incredible strong woman who had given him all of her love and asked for nothing but his in return, and he couldn’t even give her that.  
  
He had chipped away at her ever-forgiving trust in him day after day and year after year until finally it had crumbled away into nothing.    
  
“I’m so sorry Hillary. You deserve so much better than me.”  
  
Hillary wiped the tears from her eyes and gazed up at him. “But I don’t _want_ better than you. I’ve never wanted that Bill, I just want _you_. I want to be enough for you because you’ve always been enough for me.”  
  
“You are enough,” Bill’s voice broke as he tried to find the right words to fully express everything he felt for her. “God you are so enough Hillary please never believe for one single second that you aren’t.”  
  
He brought his hand under her chin and gently lifted her head to face him. “I’m the one who’s been at fault through all this, not you. Never you. And I’m gonna get help honey, remember, we both are.”  
  
Hillary knew he was talking about the marriage counseling and she cast her gaze down again, still feeling skeptical about the whole thing but nevertheless willing to try.  
  
Bill squeezed her hand reassuringly and brought her focus back up to him. “We can still fix this honey, and I’ll never stop trying every day for the rest of my life to make things right between us again.”  
  
Hillary gazed up into the brilliant blue of his eyes, helplessly drawn in as she always had been by the tiniest spark of hope in them. Hope of a better future.  
  
If there was one thing Bill Clinton was never in short supply of, it was hope.  
  
“I just wish we could get back to the couple we were before all of…this.” Hillary sighed deeply, gesturing at the grandeur of their surroundings and Bill saw the weight and responsibility of it all that she felt resting on her shoulders.  
  
A sudden idea flashed into his head and a childlike grin spread across his face.  
  
“Come with me.”  
  
He took her by the hand and led her running from the room and down the hallway with a squeal, much to the surprise of the staff loitering there.  
  
_He might not be able to completely take away the weight she felt, but he could certainly do his best to ease it for a little while at least._  
  
They ran through the corridors up to the opposite end of the White House breathlessly, finally arriving at the second floor kitchen in a burst of giggles. Hillary never had been able to resist being swept up by his charm, even after all these years no matter how angry or upset she was Bill could always somehow manage to put a smile on her face and make her forget all her worries, if only for a moment.  
  
He poked his head around the kitchen door and was glad to find it empty. He led Hillary into the room and began pulling things out of the cupboards.  
  
“Bill what on earth are you doing?” Hillary watched in amusement as the contents of their cupboards began to pile up on the worktop.  
  
“We’re going to bake a cake!”  
  
She stifled a laugh and shook her head at him in disbelief. “Bill, I have a meeting to go to. You have an entire country to run, we can’t just drop everything to play Betty Crocker.”  
  
“Sure we can! Technically it’s still the lunch hour, I’m sure we can get away with being MIA for a little while.” He fished through the drawers looking for something, “do we have any parchment paper to line this tin?”  
  
She pointed at a drawer on his left where he finally found it and swiftly began trying to cut the paper to the right shape to fit the cake tin. Hillary bit her lip with a smile, she knew he was doing this for her and she couldn’t deny that it was certainly a welcome distraction. Besides, judging by his determination she knew there was no changing his mind now he’d set it on this and so she decided to play along.  
  
“Right, well for starters William we’re going to need _self raising_ flour.” She emphasized, grabbing the bag of bread flour Bill had bizarrely selected from the cupboard and replacing it with the correct type with a chuckle.  
  
“And butter, sugar and eggs.” She listed each item on her fingers as Bill darted around the kitchen gathering the ingredients up and tipping them into a large bowl. Hillary raised an eyebrow, _apparently proper quantity measuring was overrated_ , she thought to herself with a smile.  
  
“Do you remember that cake we made for your mother when we first moved in together?” Bill started reminiscing as they worked.  
  
“How could I forget,” Hillary laughed, remembering the disastrous results of their first domestic efforts together. “I’m just glad we decided to go out and buy a store bought cake in the end. I don’t think she really would have appreciated food poisoning as her first birthday gift from her future son-in-law.”  
  
“Well, at least it gave us the opportunity to test that the smoke alarm was in full working order!”  
  
“Yes, I’m sure the neighbors were absolutely thrilled about that at 1 o’clock in the morning.”  
  
They both laughed and recounted more stories and memories together as they finished whisking up the ingredients and poured them into the lined tin.  
  
Once the cake was safely in the oven Hillary perched herself up on the countertop and Bill stood between where her legs were swinging down. His fingers were still coated with cake batter and he tapped her on the nose playfully, leaving a tiny blob on the end of her nose.  
  
“See, we can still be that couple we used to be Hilly.”  
  
“Maybe.” Hillary sighed, gazing into the distance wistfully for a moment and not bothering to wipe the chocolatey batter off her nose. Bill bit his lip and struggled to keep a straight face as he knew she was having a serious moment, but she just looked so adorable he wanted to scoop her up in his arms right there and then.  
  
“We can.” He insisted. “We’ve come through this stronger before, we can do it one last time.”  
  
She laced her fingers with his and looked back up into his eyes, “I hope so.”  
  
Bill locked his gaze with hers, his mind thinking back to his worries this morning and wondering if he dare bring up the business card and ask what she was doing with it. He was still overcome with concern over what she might be planning but he didn’t want to cause any more tension between them than he already had.

Bill finally came to the conclusion in that moment that just as she had always put her trust in him over the years, now it was time for him to put his trust in her and her judgement without interfering. He just hoped that she wasn’t about to walk into a terrible mistake…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support and comments, reading them always brightens my day so much and motivates me to keep writing :) And I hope you liked the little bit of fluff in this chapter, I've always loved the idea of them baking together so I just had to put that in before things get a bit heavier again in the next few updates...!


	16. Curtain Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter is kind of mostly a filler to build up to the next one, but I wanted to get inside Hillary's head for a bit to hopefully make it clearer what she's thinking and her reasoning behind her plan. And I'm gonna dedicate this update to LiberalClinton for nagging me to post this tonight XD

**7:25pm**  
  
The time on the digital clock on Hillary's bedside table blinked like a ticking bomb, counting down to an inevitable explosion she was willingly throwing herself in front on.  
  
_35 minutes to go._  
  
She sat in front of her dressing table and agonized over her reflection in a way she had never known herself to do before. How exactly does one get ready to come face to face with a man who has done nothing but ridicule, assault, and apparently stalk you for years? It wasn’t really a situation that came with a guidebook.  
  
It had all sounded like such a good idea in her head; turning the obsessive fixation Jason has with her to her advantage to try and weigh in her influence on his conscience. If he even had one. Only now as the reality of what she was about to do began to sink in she wondered if she had even made the right decision after all. Here she was, dressing herself up to go and meet the man who had committed countless crimes against her. It felt so wrong…and yet just standing by and letting things unfold without even trying to intervene felt even more wrong, and so she knew she had to at least try. She had to take back control.  
  
She leaned in to her reflection and applied several coats of mascara, wondering how much was too much. She knew she had to be incredibly careful, the last thing in the world she wanted was to give off the wrong signals to Jason. But she also felt that the more make up she applied the less like herself she felt; wearing the thick lashes and rosy cheeks as mask to hide the real Hillary from him and present him instead with the Hillary of his apparent fantasies. It was a defense mechanism that served a dual purpose, and one that she desperately hoped was not going to backfire.  
  
_27 minutes to go._  
  
She lined her lashes with her usual charcoal gray pencil, her hands shaking with nerves under the pressure. She reached for a cotton swab to correct her mistakes and started again, exasperated. She couldn’t remember the last time she was made to feel the need to put this much effort into her cosmetic appearance to look exactly right. Make up and hairstyling had always been such a secondary priority for Hillary; a last minute decision usually made barely moments before she needed to be ready.  
  
Bill had never put her under any pressure to look a certain way, he always greeted her with that same southern charm and amazed exclamation of “Wow! You look incredible honey!” whether she was dressed in a glittering ballgown with a full face of make up on or in a nightdress and slippers with her hair tousled around her face, he always made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.  
  
As a general rule, ever since her early teenage years Hillary had vowed never to alter anything about her appearance for any man or anyone for that matter other than for herself. Admittedly, being thrust into the public spotlight had challenged that rule over the years somewhat, but she had always maintained that every change she had made in the way she looked had always still been her choice, and served the greater good of what she believed in and allowed both her and Bill to move forward with the work that was so important to them.  
  
This situation on the other hand, was certainly stretching her rule to the very limit.  
  
_19 minutes to go._  
  
She finally perfected her eyeliner and began to agonize over lipstick color, closely examining each shade in its glossy tube before carefully testing out each option.  
  
Red? _Too flirty_  
  
Peach? _Too weak_  
  
Pink? _Too momsy_  
  
She applied and considered color after color before wiping each one off again in frustration. She hated overthinking something so trivial but nothing seemed to look just right. She began to wish she had shown the slightest interest in all those magazines full of quizzes and ‘which colors send off which signals’ type of articles that she had never bothered with in her youth.  
  
Finally she settled on a muted plum color, gliding it steadily onto her lips before applying her blush and turning her attention to her hair. She twirled a golden lock between her fingers before combing through her layers so that they fell neatly framing her face.  
  
She got up from her dressing table and focused on her outfit. As she walked over to the wardrobe she caught a glimpse of the clock again and her heart began to beat faster.  
  
**7.50pm**  
  
_10 minutes to go._  
  
Hillary raked through her clothes hastily, trying to find anything that would look nice, but not like she’d made too much of an effort. Pretty, but not too pretty. Modest, but not unflattering. The limitations were giving her a headache and making her long for the now distant days of Wellesley where she could throw on whatever was most comfortable and race out the door without so much as a glance in the mirror.  
  
_7 minutes to go._  
  
She held several pantsuits up against her body and considered her reflection before flinging each one down onto the bed in despair. None of her usual go-to options seemed quite right. She delved deeper into the back of her wardrobe and finally pulled out what she privately referred to as her 'battle suit': a set of black pants and a matching blazer with gold decorative buttons on the cuffs and an earthy toned shirt underneath. It was an outfit she had previously worn on television interviews and meetings with the press where she knew she was going to be in the firing line and had to be ready to protect herself. One of her many forms of armor, so to speak. She decided this was definitely an appropriate time as any to wear it, and she quickly got changed and slipped into a pair of slightly higher than usual black heels.  
  
_2 minutes to go_.  
  
Hillary took one final look at herself in the mirror before questioning for the hundredth time why on earth she was putting herself through this. As if in answer to her own question; her gaze fell upon a framed picture on the mantle behind her reflected in the mirror. It was of Bill and her at his first inauguration, a day that now seemed almost another lifetime ago. Hillary walked over to the picture and looked at it fondly; Bill with his hand held up as he took the oath of office with so much hope, plans and optimism for the future reflected in his eyes. And her, standing alongside him proudly in that blue hat, holding the bible for him and feeling the immense weight of the responsibility he was about to shoulder. The Clinton Administration was still a shining path of the unknown back then, unwalked and glowing with endless possibilities of all that they hoped to achieve.  
  
Now, nearly 6 years down the line all the good work they had done was already struggling to be recognized above all the smear campaigns, investigations and negativity Bill’s presidency had suffered through, and Hillary refused to let yet another scandal take center stage. Not if there was something she could do to prevent it this time.  
  
**8.00pm**

 _Deep Breath_  
  
Showtime


	17. Face To Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I agonized over this chapter for a pretty long time so I hope I managed to get it to come across the way I intended! Now that this one is out of the way I should be able to update a little more regularly hopefully! And thank you so much for all your comments and support I really appreciate it so much ^.^
> 
> [usual disclaimer that this is 100% fiction and probably would not happen in real life applies!]

Under the cover of darkness Hillary hurried down the steps of the White House accompanied by a trusted secret service agent to where her car was waiting for her. She kept her gaze downcast along the way, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone who might try to start a conversation with her and question where she was going.   
  
When she finally sank safely into the cool leather of the car's back seat she felt relieved to have successfully managed to avoid meeting any of her aides along the way. Now that she knew Bill had enlisted Alice’s help in keeping an eye on her she had distanced herself from her colleagues for the rest of that day to avoid any word of where she was going getting back to Bill.   
  
In a way, she wished she had been able to confide in him where she was going, as she certainly would have been grateful of his moral support and advice on what she was planning on saying. But she knew how protective Bill was over her now more than ever, and she knew he would only have worried and tried to talk her out of this and she didn’t want to risk him succeeding in that. She knew had to do this for herself, and so all in all decided that it was for the best that Bill was kept in the dark about her plans until they had been safely carried out.  
  
As the car sped toward the police station Hillary felt her stomach knot up inside of her. She ran over and over what she wanted to say to Jason in her head at least a hundred times, but as they arrived and she got out of the car she found all her words seem to jumble in her head.   
  
A female secret service agent accompanied her inside where they were met by Officer Ryan. He greeted Hillary with a handshake and noticed that she was trembling.   
  
“Are you completely sure you want to do this Mrs Clinton?”  
  
Hillary nodded firmly and took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down.  
  
“I’m sure.”  
  
Officer Ryan led the way down a dimly lit corridor toward the interview room, the sound of their footsteps clicking against the polished floor echoing as they walked.  
  
“Does he know I’m coming?” Hillary inquired anxiously.  
  
“He knows that somebody is coming to talk to him, but he doesn’t know who. We didn’t want to give him any sense of anticipation or the chance to premeditate his response to you.”  
  
Hillary nodded and they walked a little further as Officer Ryan went over the guidelines of their arrangement.  
  
“Now I know I explained all this on the telephone earlier, but you know that this meeting is absolutely one hundred percent off the record. Technically speaking this is highly unorthodox and really shouldn’t be allowed, but in my professional judgement of the situation I have decided to make an exception and I will take full responsibility for that decision no matter how this goes down.”  
  
He paused before posing his next question. “Does the president know you’re here?”  
  
“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want him to talk me out of it.”  
  
The officer nodded in understanding. He had seen first hand how protective the President was over the First Lady, and he knew he would have a lot to answer for if anything were to happen to her on his watch tonight. He silently prayed he had indeed made the right decision in allowing this meeting to take place.   
  
As they walked closer toward the end of the corridor Hillary felt her nerves begin to heighten again, her heart racing and her stomach turning somersaults inside her. Officer Ryan could hear the Hillary’s ragged breathing pattern and when they finally reached the door of the interview room he turned to her and offered some final words of reassurance.   
  
“Now you don’t have to go in until you’re ready okay? And I’m going to be right there behind the screen on the other side the whole time monitoring the conversation. He’s handcuffed to the interview table so he can’t physically hurt you, but if he does begin to threaten you or does anything that makes you feel uncomfortable with the situation then you just give me the nod and I’ll be through that door in under five seconds okay?”  
  
Hillary nodded, and the officer hesitated before continuing slightly uncomfortably. “Now equally, I am also duty bound to monitor the conversation from your side too…just be sure you aren’t threatening him or applying pressure in any way- not that I think for one minute that you’re intending to do that but we have to ensure we’re covered from all sides just incase this doesn’t go the way you’re expecting…“  
  
“It’s okay.” Hillary interjected as he stammered through his words. She was fully aware of the risk he was taking with his own career in doing this for her and she was incredibly grateful. “I understand all the legal implications and I promise I’m going to choose my words extremely carefully.”   
  
The officer nodded, knowing her outstanding record as a lawyer and trusting her to handle this right.  
  
He reached for his keys, the tinkering sound of the metal piercing through the dark corridor.   
  
“Are you ready?”  
  
Hillary took a slow deep breath and exhaled it shakily before finally nodding her permission for him to slot the key into the lock and turn it, allowing her access to step into the room.  
  
A shadow was cast over the doorway where Hillary stood, and so she saw Jason sat at the interview table before he could see her. Just seeing him again brought every horrific memory of the past few weeks flooding back to Hillary’s mind, and she took several breaths and remembered some advice her mother had given her once.  
  
 _“Life is not about what happens to you Hillary, it’s about what you do with what happens to you.”_  
  
With that in mind Hillary steadied herself, and finally stepped into the light of the room and made her presence known.  
  
“Hello Jason.”  
  
His head snapped up in surprise as he heard her voice, and Hillary struggled to meet his eye.  
  
“Well look who it is - the first bitch.” Jason spat, trying to hide his surprise at her unexpected arrival. “Finally decided to come back for more of this?”  
  
Hillary ignored his comment and tried not to let her expression falter, not wanting to show any ounce of fear. She took a seat at the interview table across from him, edging her chair back just a little as she sat down.  
  
“What’s going on?” He demanded, a hint of panic now in his voice. Hillary seized her chance to take control of the confrontation.   
  
“Nothing’s going on. I’m just here to talk to you - to ask you something. And then I’m going to leave and you won’t be seeing me again.” She was trying to keep her voice steady and calm, but inside her mind was going into overdrive screaming at her, trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.  
  
 _I’m just talking to him I’m not manipulating him. I’m just talking to him I’m not manipulating him._  
  
She reminded herself how careful she had to be, how much of a fine line she was treading even having this conversation. But if there was even the slightest possible chance that she could get through to him she knew she had to at least try.   
  
“What is it then?” Jason’s harsh voice cut bluntly through her thoughts.  
  
Hillary drew a deep breath and straightened herself in her chair, trying to keep hold of the upper hand in the power balance playing out between them.  
  
“I’d like you to think about confessing to what we both know is the truth and changing your plea to guilty.” Her words rushed out all in one breath as she tried to get the question out as quickly as possible and brace herself for his reaction.   
  
Jason blinked, momentarily stunned into silence before throwing his head back in sarcastic cruel laughter.  
  
“And why the fuck would I do that?”  
  
Hillary winced at his tone but tried fervently not to let it show.   
  
“Because aside from the fact that it’s the right thing to do, it really would be in your best interest as much as mine.”  
  
Jason was curious about that, but equally determined not to show it. He wasn’t willing to let his hard-man act drop just yet.   
  
“And how did your pretty little head work that one out?”  
  
“Jason, just take a look at your situation; you committed assault, harassment, and then had a fist fight with the President of the United States, not to mention the multiple pieces of indisputable evidence we have against you. Your prospects in court aren’t exactly looking good.”  
  
“What evidence?” The panic in his voice was rising.  
  
“I’m not at liberty to disclose the details.” Hillary tried to be as vague as possible, hoping to plant seeds of doubt in Jason’s mind without giving him any actual information. After all he didn’t know whether the dna evidence on her clothes was conclusive or not, or even what kind of security footage had been captured at the White House that night, and she was determined to keep it that way. She also knew he would be painfully aware of the highly incriminating evidence he had gathered himself in that godforsaken suitcase, and she hoped that he would begin to doubt himself and his prospects.    
  
He was, but he still tried defiantly not to show it. He wasn’t about to let this stuck up woman get one up on him, and so he shrugged casually in an effort to appear unfazed.   
  
“Whatever, it doesn’t even matter. I’ve got a good lawyer. If I plead not guilty there’s still a chance things will swing in my favor in court and I’ll get off without being sentenced. Why would I throw that chance away for you and your pathetically embarrassing little morality guilt trip?”  
  
Hillary swallowed and decided to try a different angle.   
  
“You know,” she began, selecting her words carefully, “when a presidential scandal breaks it isn’t just the president and me who will be hounded by the media and subject to endless scrutiny…it affects both participants.”  
  
She hadn’t mentioned a name, but Jason knew what Hillary was referring to of course. The entire country had been talking about Monica Lewinsky and the scandal that had erupted from the White House over the past few months. The girl had become a household name practically overnight and endured relentless amounts of ridicule, judgement and humiliating jokes at her expense. And she had been a willing participant in her scandal… Jason dreaded to think what might become of him if what he had done were to go public.   
  
For the first time, he began to doubt his plans to take the case to trial. His lawyer had convinced him he had a good chance of winning, but faced with First Lady herself the reality of his situation began to sink in. The idea of going up against the first couple of the United States was suddenly looking a decidedly more daunting prospect.   
  
Hillary was watching his expression closely, trying to work out if she was managing to have any impact. He could feel her eyes burning into him and he glared coldly back, not wanting her to know she was wearing him down. He couldn’t let her win. He couldn’t let her think she was better than him again.  
  
 _But at what cost to himself…how far was he actually willing to go with his plan to sabotage her life, to make her feel as small as she made him feel all those years ago? Was it really worth it if he ended up sabotaging himself even more than he already had in the process?_  
  
All of these thoughts raced through Jason’s twisted self absorbed mind as Hillary continued trying to reason with him.  
  
“I can keep your name out of the media Jason. In return for my life back I can offer you yours. And once you’ve served your time and completed your sentence I can make connections with people who will help you get rehabilitated back into society. You won’t be allowed back into Washington, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start again somewhere else, away from all of this.”  
  
She could tell he was torn by her offer, but his ego was preventing him from admitting it.  
  
“What makes you think I’d ever accept your help? Just to give you another reason to see yourself as some kind of fucking saint?”  
  
Hillary drew in a breath. “Well that would be up to you. The offer is there, it’s in your hands whether or not you choose to take it.”   
  
She began getting up to leave and Jason rolled his eyes, staring her up and down and not wanting her to get the last word, “you just think SO much of yourself don’t you Hillary?” He spat out the letters of her name as though they left a sour taste in his mouth.  
  
Hillary closed her eyes for a moment, her back now turned on Jason as she faced toward the door.  
  
“You know, despite what you might have thought when we were in school Jason, I never thought I was any better than you.”  
  
“Of course you did.” Jason cut back with a stinging malice in his voice. “I watched the way you sauntered around, heading up all your little societies and clubs, anything to give yourself a power trip and look down on the rest of us. Oh but those tables have turned now haven’t they Miss Rodham? _I’m_ the one holding the power to destroy _your_ life now.”   
  
Hillary sighed, knowing he was looking for a fight back but she knew she couldn’t rise to it. She realized he was far too deep in his decade-long delusions and resentments for her to ever be able to change his mind.  
  
She turned back to him for the last time and made one final attempt to convince him. “Fine. If you won’t do this for me, at least think about doing it for yourself.” She paused before adding, “or, catapult yourself to nationwide fame and have your name go down in history forevermore as the man who assaulted the First Lady. Up to you.”  
  
Jason aggressively stood bolt upright from his chair, stretching his handcuffs to their very limit in order to stand level with her. She flinched at his sudden movement but held his gaze as he towered over her, determined not to be intimidated anymore. They stared each other down for a moment and Hillary wondered briefly if he was about to agree to her proposal, as his eyes flickered with thought. But then his face hardened back to it's default expression again and he inched closer toward her, leaning into her ear and jeering at her one final time.  
  
“Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”


	18. Last Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much those of you who've left me such kind comments - reading them really does keep me motivated to carry on writing this! <3 This update is a tiny bit more fluffy and comforting compared to the confrontation last chapter so I hope you enjoy it :)

Bill was deeply distracted with worry for Hillary during his evening meetings that night. When he finally left the Oval Office just after 9pm he immediately rushed to the second floor in search of his wife but found the residence empty aside from Chelsea, who was home from Stanford for the week and working on some homework at the kitchen table.  
  
“Hey honey, do you know where your mother is?”  
  
Chelsea looked up from her books and gave him a slightly awkward smile. The relationship between the father and daughter had been under a great deal of strain since the news of his infidelity had broken. Chelsea had felt the betrayal of being lied to both personally and on behalf of her mother, and although Bill had been working hard to make amends with her they still had a way to go to rebuild the closeness of their relationship they had once cherished.   
  
“I haven’t seen her since dinner. Nice cake by the way.” Chelsea nodded toward the remains of the chocolate sponge that he and Hillary had cobbled together earlier.  
  
Bill smiled fondly at the memory of their domestic efforts. “Did she seem…okay to you?”   
  
Chelsea gave him a look that said something to the effect of _‘um, what the hell do you think?’_ but she managed to answer politely all the same.  
  
“As okay as I’d expect her to be I guess,” she shrugged, “she didn’t eat much…oh and she rushed off at around half past 7 saying she needed to get ready for something, I don’t know where she went though.”  
  
Alarm bells started to ring in Bill’s head at that, his mind going into overdrive as he wondered where she might have gone. He desperately wanted to rush off to find Hillary immediately but the sight of his daughter was pulling on his heart strings. With her spending so much time away at university, they really hadn’t had much of a chance to talk alone together since he had confessed to her and her mother that he’d lied about Monica, and he was longing to reconnect with his daughter.   
  
Torn between the two most important people in his life, he decided he could afford to delay going after Hillary for at least a few more minutes, and so he pulled up a chair beside his daughter instead. “So what are you working on there anyway?”  
  
Chelsea didn’t look up from her book, but she didn’t recoil away from him as she had done in previous weeks. Bill took this to be a positive sign of progress.  
  
“Algebra.” She finally answered, chewing the end of her pencil in concentration.  
  
 _Algebra…not exactly one of his strengths_ Bill thought to himself in disappointment. He had hoped it would be history or literature or something that would have provided them with a common talking point. He had missed conversations with his daughter so much in the months she had estranged herself from him. Her thoughtful intelligence never ceased to astound him and his heart swelled with pride at the remarkable young woman she was growing into.   
  
“Algebra huh?” Bill leaned over her shoulder to read from the pages of her book, feigning extreme interest. Chelsea looked up at him for a moment and then suddenly let out a peal of endearing laughter.   
  
“Dad, it’s alright you don’t have to pretend to be interested, I’m not going to ask for your help or anything!” She giggled, referring to a time several years ago when she had enlisted his help with some algebra homework once before. He had been only too eager to step in and assist her but as she later learned from the glaring F grade that the homework had received, although the president of the United States possessed a great many talents and skills; algebra was decidedly not one of them.  
  
Bill smiled at the warmth of her laughter, “It’s good to see you smiling honey...I know these last few months have been far from easy for you.”   
  
“It’s okay Dad,” she sighed, and then gave him a look that reminded him so much of Hillary it was uncanny. “I mean...it’s not, but I know how sorry you are and how much you do love Mom and me and I know you're working hard to try and fix things again.”   
  
Bill wrapped his arm around Chelsea, pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you both more than anything in the world and I promise things are going to get better from now on.”  
  
“I love you too Dad.”   
  
It was the first time he had heard his daughter utter those words since before the scandal, and he fiercely decided in that moment that he would never give her another reason to go so long without saying them again.   
  
Once they had both pulled out of their embrace Chelsea turned her attention back to her homework, and Bill glanced at the clock anxiously.  
  
“Honey, I need to go and check on your mom, are you going to be okay here?”  
  
Chelsea nodded, “of course. I need to get on and finish this tonight anyway.”  
  
Bill smiled, “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you sweetheart.”  
  
“I’ve missed you too Dad.”

  
  
____________________________________________

  
It was almost 10pm by the time Hillary arrived back at the White House, her eyes sore from crying for the entire car journey back from the police station. She had been so sure she would be able to convince Jason to change his mind, that she could appeal to his better nature or conscience that she’d felt so certain must still be in there somewhere. But apparently it wasn’t, and now her last spark of hope of this nightmare finally coming to an end had been well and truly stamped out.   
  
Since leaving Chelsea to study in the kitchen Bill had been frantically searching every corner of the White House for any sign of Hillary or anyone who knew where she had gone. He was just about to enlist the help of the secret service agents when his sharp senses finally heard a car pulling up the driveway. He rushed to the foyer and ran straight outside into the pouring rain where his eyes fell upon the heart wrenching sight of his wife climbing out of the car shivering, her expression utterly crestfallen and mascara stained down the soft porcelain skin of her cheeks.   
  
Without giving the freezing temperature and his lack of wearing a coat a second thought, Bill ran towards Hillary and wrapped his arms around her. She clung onto him tightly, still shaking and sobbing into his chest as she shook her head in despair and mumbled apologies through her cries.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Bill.”  
  
“Shhhh honey it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re safe.”  
  
Bill was brimming with the burning curiosity of so many unanswered questions; he was dying to know where she had been, why she was so upset, and even more disconcerting - why she felt the need to apologize, but seeing her in this state he knew his first priority had to be to take care of her and comfort her. Answers would have to wait.   
  
He stroked her now dripping wet hair from standing in the rain and whispered soothingly into her ear until her cries had finally settled.

Hillary wasn’t even entirely sure why she was so emotional, but the overwhelming build up to this meeting combined with keeping everything all bottled up had apparently more than taken it’s toll on her. She wasn’t used to having secrets, to not sharing things with Bill. In her eyes they were always a team and she always relied on his advice and guidance through difficult times and decisions. Hiding things from him was not something she was accustomed to, and her ordeal with Jason had thrown her into a world of lying and isolation that she just wasn’t built for.   
  
“Let’s get you inside.” Bill whispered, feeling her shivering in his arms and the cold touch of her icy skin against his now completely soaked-through shirt.  
  
Much to their equally freezing secret service agents relief, the first couple finally trudged up the foyer steps and into the warm safety of the White House, their arms still wrapped around each other tightly. Once they were inside and back in the privacy of the second floor residence, Bill ran a hot bath for Hillary and rustled around the kitchen making her some comforting sweet tea. Luckily Chelsea had now retired to her bedroom for the night, and so he didn’t have to deal with any questions from her that Hillary wasn’t ready for her daughter to know the answers to.  
  
Once Hillary had warmed herself through and changed her clothes she sat on the edge of their bed and poured out the whole story to Bill. He listened in both admiration and complete dismay at what she had put herself through and the sheer risks she had taken.   
  
“What the hell were you thinking?” Bill shook his head in disbelief as she finished her story, pulling her into a hug.  
  
“It was so stupid I know, I just didn’t know what else to do and I thought if there was even the smallest chance I could get him to change his mind I had to at least try.”  
  
Bill held her tighter, marveling at her extraordinary ability to always hope to find the best in people even when it wasn’t there. He cursed himself silently for ever having voiced the possibility to her.    
  
“I never should have mentioned the idea of using our influence in the first place, I never meant for you to put yourself in danger like that. I’d never ever had been able to forgive myself if he had hurt you again.”  
  
“Oh Bill,” Hillary hugged him back as fresh tears filled her eyes, “I wasn’t really in danger…I had the secret service with me and Officer Ryan was watching everything from the next room. Besides, Jason was cuffed to the desk anyway.” At the mention of Jason, Hillary buried her head in her hands again in despair. “Oh Bill what if he reports me for trying to influence and manipulate his testimony? I’ll have my law license suspended and it’ll throw the entire case into doubt. I’ve jeopardized everything and for what?”   
  
“It won’t come to that.” Bill soothed, although privately he worried that it might. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. Try not to think about the worst case scenario when it hasn’t even happened yet okay?”   
  
Hillary nodded and then tried to suppress a yawn. It had been such a long day and she was completely exhausted.  
  
“You should get some sleep honey.” Bill pushed a golden lock of hair behind her ear affectionately and her eyelashes fluttered sleepily as she tried to stay awake. “We can talk more in the morning.”  
  
Bill pulled back the duvet for her and she climbed into bed. He kissed her forehead tenderly and started to move off the bed to return to his usual guest room for the night when Hillary reached out and grabbed his hand.  
  
“Stay with me Bill. Please?”  
  
He took one look into her beseeching eyes as she gazed up at him and certainly didn’t need to be told twice. Bill quickly stripped off and changed into his pajamas, still neatly folded and waiting for him under his pillow as though he had never left. He snuggled under the duvet and wrapped his arms around her tiny frame as they lay together. Hillary sighed contentedly at the warmth of his touch and despite the increasingly complicated challenges they were facing, felt utterly at peace for the first time in a long time as she finally found her home in his arms again. 

  
____________________________________

  
Meanwhile, several miles away in the cold metal surroundings of his holding cell Jason had been doing some thinking of his own. Staring up at the ceramic square tiles of the ceiling and listening to the steady drip of the tap at the washbasin, he went over and over his meeting with the first lady in his head and finally he came to a decision. He hammered loudly on the cell door to the security officer stationed on the other side, his hard voice echoing harshly in the otherwise empty station.  
  
“Hey you! Get me Officer Ryan, I’ve got something to tell him. And then I need him to deliver a message to her stuck-up-highness the First Lady of the United States…”


	19. Turning Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to post this update on Wednesday but the filters my parents have on our internet at home got updated and this site ended up blocked, so it took me a few days to figure out how to fix it and get back in! But on the positive side, it gave me a bit more time write further ahead and so the next update should be finished and posted either tomorrow or Sunday to make up for this one taking so long! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it was quite an important one as this story is slowly heading towards the end so please let me know what you think! :)

The next morning Hillary awoke to sunshine spilling through the curtains, its golden glow warming her skin like a comforting blanket as the sun rays traveled across the room to where she lay huddled up on the bed. She instinctively reached out to Bill beside her but was surprised to find the sheets empty and cold. Hillary rubbed her eyes in confusion. _Had she dreamed last night?_ She clumsily felt around on her bedside cabinet for her glasses to correct her blurred vision, and when the room finally sharpened around her she found a hastily scribbled note on Bill’s pillow.  
  
_“You looked so peaceful so I didn’t want to wake you. Sorry to have to leave so early but duty calls and cabinet meetings wait for no one apparently! Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay! I love you.”_ And then he’d drawn a slightly wobbly shape that Hillary figured was supposed to be a heart. She smiled and reread the note several times before holding it close to her chest, cherishing the warmth and assurance of his loving words.  
  
Her fleeting happiness didn’t last long however, and as soon as her brain fully woke up the events of yesterday came flooding back into her mind sending her crashing back down to earth.  
  
Hillary’s heart sank as her thoughts raked back over everything that had happened over the past months. The scandal, the secrecy, the fighting, the humiliation, the police, the suitcases, the court case, and the confrontation…just thinking about it all she couldn’t help letting out a weary yawn despite having literally just woken up.  
  
_She was so tired of of this. Tired of all of it._  
  
Since moving into the White House life had been far from an easy ride for her and Bill; her losing her father, him losing his mother, her healthcare reform efforts, Vince Foster, Whitewater, countless investigation after investigation, their motives being questioned at every single turn no matter what they tried to do. And it seemed that no matter what they obstacles they managed to overcome, there was always some new scandal for them to face looming in the distance. Paula Jones. Monica Lewinsky. Then Jason. It just never seemed to stop, and Hillary suddenly began to feel the straining effects of the tumultuous six years they had endured take their toll on her all at once.    
  
She collapsed back against the cool cotton of her pillow and covered her eyes in frustration, cursing herself for the hundredth time for being so stupid as to go and speak to Jason last night. She had been so certain it was the right thing to do, so certain she could work things in her favor. After all, surely it was about time she was owed a bit of good fortune wasn’t it?  
  
_Apparently not._  
  
She combed a finger through her golden locks and sighed heavily, her quick mind beginning to wander through possible scenarios of what might potentially happen next…  
  
If Jason _hadn’t_ reported her for trying to manipulate his position, then the case would certainly go to trial and she would have to take to the stand and re-live every single hellish detail of the nightmare he had put her through. Everyone would find out…and she could almost see the humiliating headlines and the judging eyes of the public on her already. And if he _had_ reported her then she could end up being the one on trial herself. The republicans would have an absolute field day, delighting in finally having caught her out in something real to exploit after all these years of their false charges and smear campaigns.  
  
She wasn’t sure which option was worse, and she soon began to feel completely hopeless and sank deeply into despair again when she turned her head to the side and suddenly caught sight of Bill’s note, still resting on his pillow. She picked it up again and traced over his words with her fingernail; ‘Don’t worry.’  
  
Bill knew her better than anyone. He knew that she’d be laying here, blaming herself and agonizing over everything that was now out of their control. She always had been the designated worrier in their family, taking every single problem imaginable upon her shoulders to try and fix. Whether it was helping Chelsea with her science fair project, or tackling healthcare reform for the entire country; no challenge was ever too small or too big for Hillary Rodham Clinton to take on.  
  
_And she could take this on too._  
  
She took a breath and glanced back at Bill’s note one final time, her encouragement renewed by his simple heartfelt words. He hadn’t lost hope, and she knew she mustn’t either.  
  
Hillary dragged herself out of her brief descent into slip into self pity and headed to the bathroom to wash, dress, and get herself up and ready to what ultimately she would always do; soldier on.

  
______________________________

  
Hillary threw herself into her work that morning with such force that Alice watched with a mixture of both concern and amusement as the First Lady rattled through paperwork, telephone calls, faxes, and made color scheme and place setting decisions at a truly impressive speed, even for her.  
  
The young aide tried her best to focus on her own duties, but found herself biting her lip when she saw her boss scribble her signature so forcefully that the pen almost tore through the paper for the third time that day, and finally she plucked up the courage to say something.  
  
“Um, are you alright Mrs Clinton?”  
  
“I’m absolutely fine thank you!” Hillary responded a little too brightly. She forced a smile but still didn’t look up from the papers she was reading.  
  
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help you out? You just seem like...like you have a lot on your shoulders.”  
  
“Honestly I’m totally alright, just busy.”  
  
Alice was far from convinced, but she let a moment pass before trying to engage her boss in conversation again. This time she tried a different approach, touching on the subject that had been weighing heavily on her conscience since yesterday morning.  
  
“I-um- I’m sorry if you’re mad at me for agreeing to keep an eye on you for the president, I swear I didn’t want to go behind your back, I just-“  
  
“I’m not mad at you.” Hillary cut in. She finally put down her pen and made eye contact, wanting to reassure the girl who had shown her so much kindness at the time when she'd needed it most. “I know he put you in an awkward position, you couldn’t exactly have said no so please don’t worry about it. And don’t worry about me either, I’m fine really I’m just…trying to block out other things I guess.”  
  
“…Jason?” Alice questioned in a quiet voice, hoping she wasn’t overstepping the line between her professional and personal concerns.  
  
Hillary sighed and nodded. “I’m just trying not to think about it to be perfectly honest. There’s nothing more I can do about the situation and there’s so much other work to be done I might as well put all my efforts into the change I can make rather than focusing on what I can’t.”  
  
The immense admiration Alice had for the First Lady crept up even higher in her estimation; the woman’s resilience and ability to get right back up after being knocked down was truly remarkable.  
  
“And don’t worry about my husband,” Hillary added with a smile, “I’ll have words with him and be sure he doesn’t go about recruiting my aides as living baby monitors again.”  
  
Alice smiled at that and the two women finally allowed themselves to laugh, clearing the awkward atmosphere between them that had lingered since Hillary’s suspicions the previous day.  
  
“Well I’m very relieved to hear that!” Alice chuckled, before returning her attention to her filing duties. A few peaceful moments of quiet productivity passed between them before the telephone suddenly rang.  
  
Alice lifted the receiver and spoke in her usual efficient manner. “Hello, Mrs Clinton’s Office, how may I help you?”  
  
The girl listened to the voice on the other end of the line earnestly but her expression quickly changed as the speaker made their identity known and explained the reason for their call.  
  
“I see,” Alice spoke into the telephone in such a grave voice that Hillary glanced up from her paperwork in curiosity, “one moment please.”  
  
Alice placed the line on hold before handing the telephone over to Hillary. “Officer Ryan asking to speak with you. He says it’s about Jason…”  
  
Hillary’s heart plummeted deep inside her chest, and all the color drained from her face as she tentatively held the phone to her ear with bated breath. She figured she was about discover exactly what the repercussions of her little meeting yesterday were to be.  
  
“Hello…?”

  
_____________________________

  
Less than five minutes later Hillary hung up the telephone and was frantically tearing down the staircase and racing across the corridor toward the Oval Office to find Bill. The secret service agents swiftly stepped aside for her in surprise as she tumbled into the room in such an elated breathless flurry that Bill immediately bolted up from his desk in alarm, thinking something surely must be wrong.  
  
“Hillary? Honey what is it?”  
  
“Bill!” Hillary exclaimed, her voice light with relief in a way he hadn’t heard in the longest time. “Bill! He’s changed his plea to guilty! He’s being sentenced later this week - it’s really finally over!”  
  
Bill blinked, unable to believe his ears for a moment. Then he finally registered what she was saying to him he ran over to her in delight and pulled her into a tight loving embrace, tears filling both of their eyes as the incredible relief washed over them.  
  
“So wait, what exactly did he say?” Bill pulled back from their hug for a moment, his brain finally kicking in and needing more information. It all seemed to good to be true.  
  
Hillary’s face fell a little. “Not a lot. Just that he had decided to confess.” She cast her gaze down to the floor before continuing, “and he told Officer Ryan to tell me _‘don’t think for one second that I’m doing this for you’_.”  
  
Bill read the flicker of disappointment on her face and he gently tilted her chin back up to look at him again. “You know it really doesn’t matter why he did it, the important thing is that he did. Actually you did it, Hill, you changed his mind. And I’m so incredibly proud of you! You’re finally free!”  
  
He suddenly scooped her up in his arms and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around like they were in the final scenes of a cheesy romantic comedy. Hillary squealed gleefully and they both giggled with euphoria at the enormous weight finally lifted off them. In their heightened state of giddy relief and in the heat of the moment they suddenly found themselves locked in a deep and passionate kiss; their first in months in fact. Neither were entirely sure who initiated it, but their hands were soon threaded through each others hair and their tongues eagerly making up for lost time, almost drunk on the taste of each other after so long apart.  
  
When they eventually pulled away for oxygen, Hillary’s head finally took over from what her heart and body wanted and she forced herself to step back.  
  
“That shouldn’t have happened.”  
  
Bill instantly backed away and lowered his head toward the floor, sincerely hoping he hadn’t pressured her into something she wasn’t ready for yet. “Sorry.”  
  
“That’s not to say I that didn’t want it to happen,” Hillary quickly reassured him, her mouth curled into a small smile which Bill gladly returned. “Just not yet.”  
  
“We don’t need to rush anything baby. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
She nodded, grateful he always understood without her needing to explain herself. She unexpectedly leaned in again to place a softer, fleeting kiss against his lips before settling back into the comfort of his embrace.  
  
“One step at a time.”


	20. Rebuilding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I redrafted this chapter like a dozen times and I'm still not completely satisfied with it but I wanted to keep to the deadline I made for myself so here it is anyway! Just a couple more updates left till this is finished now :)

One week later after Hillary first received the phone call from Officer Ryan, Jason declared his plea before a judge and was sentenced to 8 years imprisonment and three years supervised release.  
  
Hillary had cried when she heard the outcome, and Bill had cradled her in his arms and soothed her gently as dozens of conflicting emotions seared through her. She was relieved, of course, but she was also saddened that this person who had shared her beginnings and started life from the exact same place as her had taken themselves down such a drastically different path. She felt overwhelmingly grateful to be free of his influence at last, but at the same time a tiny part of her also hoped that once he had served his time he really would seek the help he clearly needed and begin to rebuild a life of his own.  
  
Once she had given herself the time she needed to think about Jason and deal with her feelings on the matter she finally pushed him out of her head entirely. He had invaded her mind without consent for far long enough, lurking in the back of her thoughts like an unending wakeful nightmare and she wasn’t going to grant him a single second there any longer. She would finally put him firmly back in her past where he belonged and focus on moving forward with her own life.      
  
Despite the ongoing reports of the Lewinsky scandal and the dreaded whispers of impeachment lingering, the atmosphere in the White House had noticeably lifted since Hillary and Bill had heard the news of Jason’s change of plea, and the high spirits of the first couple seemed to be having a positive effect on everyone. Productivity had increased, tensions were eased, and with the weight of the court case finally off their shoulders things between Bill and Hillary were also steadily improving by the day. They were spending more and more time together again, testing the waters and sowing the seeds that would eventually regrow the parts of their relationship that had been destroyed.  
  
The night following Jason’s sentencing Hillary and Bill had a picnic on the Truman Balcony, something they hadn’t found time to do since their very first year in the White House. They sat together watching the stars, drinking champagne and eating chocolate and cherries, talking and laughing well into the early hours of the morning. Their conversation flowed with such a comfortable ease that Hillary almost felt as though she was that young college student being courted again, swept off her feet by the Arkansas boy from the library. Basking in the moonlight, she tried desperately to tightly hold on to this blissful moment, for she knew that all too soon their next challenge would be looming on the horizon threatening to drag them down again.  
  
_Marriage Counseling_  
  
She had agreed to do it as soon as the case with Jason was over and so true to her word, Hillary had arranged their first session for the very next day.  
  
As dawn broke that morning, Hillary woke early and found her stomach tied up in knots with nerves. She glanced over at Bill’s still sleeping form. They hadn’t really properly discussed it but he’d been sleeping in their bedroom again ever since that night she had returned from the police station and asked him to stay. Despite sleeping in the same bed they hadn’t actually been intimate again yet, but still she felt as though they were making definite progress towards that point, and she desperately hoped that dragging all their problems out in the open with some therapist wasn’t about to undo all of that...

  
  
_____________________________

  
The First Couple of the United States sat anxiously on the edge of the quilted couch, gazing at the ivory colored decor of the office. Hillary found her gaze traveling toward the harsh ticking of the clock on the wall already, counting down the minutes till they could leave despite having only just arrived.  
  
Their carefully selected counselor, whose name they learned was Marianne had greeted them pleasantly enough, and the three of them took their seats somewhat awkwardly and begun the momentous task of signing the numerous confidentiality agreements that had to be specially drawn up to ensure utmost discretion.  
  
Once the paperwork was finally complete, Marianne sat back in her chair and surveyed the remarkable dynasty in front of her, her keen brown eyes noticing everything from the closeness to which they sat next to each other to the plain giveaway signs of tension in both of their posture and body language.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about why you’re here?” Marianne’s smooth voice cut through the lingering silence.  
  
Hillary scrunched up her face and gave the woman a slightly sarcastic look.  
  
“Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past few months I’m sure you know exactly why we’re here.”  
  
Marianne smiled at her unfazed and Hillary felt instantly guilty for snapping, but she couldn’t seem to help being on the defensive. She hated feeling as though her marriage was being judged, and she still harbored reasonable doubts over what good baring their souls in front of a complete stranger could really achieve.  
  
_Still, she had promised to try, and so she knew she had to give it a fair chance._  
  
“Of course,” Marianne continued calmly, “but it’s part of the process to hear things explained in your own words and for you both to gain insight into each other’s perspective.”  
  
Hillary reluctantly nodded, but found no words came out when she opened her mouth. She wasn’t sure she was ready to vocalize all that she was feeling towards Bill yet and besides, she had no idea really where to even begin.  
  
She over at glanced at Bill, who was fiddling with his hands nervously. This was his story to tell, and he knew it. And so slightly red-faced and shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he began to pour out his shameful account of his encounters with Miss Lewinsky.    
  
Hillary began to feel slightly sick, and found herself unable to look at him as he stumbled through the details.  
  
_The Oval Office_  
  
_His cigar_  
  
_Telephone calls_  
  
_The blue dress_  
  
None of this was really new information to her; she had heard enough of the whispering and rumors plaguing the White House, and she had turned on the television enough times to find the most intimate details of her marriage being discussed at length and accompanied with heartless peals of canned laughter. But hearing it all directly from her husband’s own lips was proving too much for even her to take, and she suddenly bolted up from the couch and tried furiously to appear as though the tears streaming steadily down her face weren’t actually there.  
  
“I don’t think I can do this.”  
  
Bill looked up at her in distress; the beautiful love of his life crying because of him and the seemingly unending amount of pain he repeatedly caused her. It broke his heart in two and he reached out desperately to grab her hand.  
  
Hillary tried to will herself to snatch her hand away but despite herself she found herself holding on tightly and unable to bring herself to let go. Bill squeezed her hand in his and without even looking at him Hillary knew exactly what that squeeze meant. _I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry._  
  
She sighed. He was always sorry, that much she knew…He was just never sorry enough to actually change his ways.  
  
“Please don’t leave honey.” Bill looked up at her desperately now, his own tears beginning to shine in the bright blue of his eyes and his request subconsciously laced with a much deeper meaning, vocalizing his one and only greatest fear.  
  
_Please don’t let me live without you._  
  
Hillary stayed rooted to the spot, unsure what to do next, and Marianne’s breezy empathetic voice cut through her dilemma.  
  
“How does it make you feel to hear your husband describe these things?”  
  
Hillary snapped her head in Marianne’s direction, her eyes suddenly flashing angrily as she stared at her. This was the question she had been asked countless times by endless reporters and journalists relentlessly over the past months. _How do you feel, Mrs Clinton? Are you heartbroken, Mrs Clinton? Show us just how heartbroken you are you. Break down for us. Perform for us in your tragic role as the little betrayed wife._  
  
She had always kept her walls firmly up when those questions had been fired at her again and again. Brushing them off with a casual, well rehearsed answer, determined not to crack. She wouldn’t give them what they wanted, she refused to let them profit anymore than they already had done out of her pain.  
  
But strong as she was, she couldn’t keep it together forever, and after months and months of pent up frustration and polite self-contained answers, she had finally reached boiling point.  
  
“How do I _feel?”_ She repeated, yelling in disbelief. “How do you fucking THINK I feel?” Her words were angry but her trembling voice betrayed all of the hurt she was harboring. “Tell me, what exactly is it that everyone wants me to say when they keep asking me that? Hm? That I’m devastated? That I’m furious? That I cried myself to sleep every night? That I’m lonely? That the one person I thought would always be there for me to rely on and turn to is the very one who has caused me the most stinging betrayal and pain of my life and I don’t know how to trust him again? Is that what everyone wants to hear? Is that open enough for you all?”  
  
At her use of the word ‘all’ Bill and Marianne knew that her sudden rant was directed at more than just the two of them sitting there, and Hillary knew it too. She paused for breath and her defenses mechanisms kicked back in. She felt suddenly ashamed of herself for loosing it like that.  
  
“I’m sorry I- I really can’t do this.”  
  
She turned on her heel and fled from the room without daring to take so much as a backward glance. Once she made it safely outside she took a few welcome breaths of fresh air to calm herself, still shaking slightly and simmering with rage and hurt but as she settled back into the car she couldn’t deny that it had felt somewhat cathartic to finally express what she had been bottling up for months.  
  
She began to consider that perhaps this counseling could be able to help them after all…

  
  
Back in the office, Bill had watched in despair as Hillary stormed out and he turned towards Marianne practically begging for guidance.  
  
“How do I fix this? Please, I can’t lose her I just can’t please please tell me it’s not too late for me to fix this?”  
  
Marianne took a moment, before answering in her usual diplomatic voice, “I think,” she began slowly, “so long as those involved remain willing to repair the damage that has been done - then nothing is ever so broken that it cannot be fixed in one way or another. Whether or not both of you remain willing however is something we would really have to explore in further sessions, should you choose to continue with them.”  
  
Bill nodded bleakly, his face the picture of misery as he hoped desperately he would be able to talk Hillary round to coming back.  
  
Marianne read all of the heart wrenching torment in his expression and she softened her voice from her usual professional tone before offering him some final words of advice.  
  
“I would encourage you both not to lose heart. Talking things through in an environment like this isn’t easy, and things often get worse before they get better. But they _can_ get better, and I really do believe this could be very helpful for you both if you choose to stick with it. One thing at least that’s very clear to me is that you do truly love your wife very much.”  
  
Bill struggled to contain the tears that threatened to escape down his cheeks and he just nodded in response.  
  
_More than anything in the world._


	21. Reconnecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys are still enjoying this story, there's only one chapter left after this one now! 
> 
> Usual disclaimer that this is 100% fiction applies! Obviously I have no idea what they really talked about in therapy, this is just my take on things from what I've read and observed :)

Once the dust had settled after their first counseling session Bill and Hillary discussed the matter privately and both simultaneously came to the conclusion that despite their somewhat turbulent first experience, they couldn’t give up that easily.  
  
But still, as they plowed through their next sessions Hillary found herself back on her guard again, diligently listening and participating where necessary; shortly answering questions when they were posed to her but asking very few of her own in return. She had clammed tightly back up into her protective shell and retreated behind the safety of her walls after displaying what she viewed as weakness through her initial outburst at their first session, and Marianne and Bill both had to work twice as hard to coax her back out of herself again.  
  
It wasn’t that she didn’t have plenty she wanted to ask and say to Bill; she did. She just wasn’t sure if she was entirely ready to hear his answers.  
  
So instead, she listened. She listened as Bill talked about the pressures of his work, the strain and stress and responsibilities that rested on his shoulders morning noon and night. She listened as he spoke of his need of a distraction, his need to seek comfort and relieve all the tension he carried. And Hillary understood all of that…what she didn’t understand was why _she_ hadn’t been the source of that comfort. Why someone else's body, hands, mouth, touch, had been a more favorable option than her own. The question burned unspoken on her lips day after day, speculation fueling her deepest insecurities and doubts until one gray afternoon several weeks into their sessions, she finally could contain it no longer.  
  
“Why am I not enough Bill?”  
  
She had asked him this before and he had answered her before, but those exchanges had occurred in the dizzy heights of heated arguments with emotions running high. It had been brushed aside with a denial and a maybe kiss that drew her into an embrace so comforting she would briefly forget all of her doubts. But the quiet and calm of a controlled environment like this was very much more exposing; there was no room for hiding behind affection and reassurance anymore and Hillary finally realized that she didn’t even really want reassurance anymore. She just wanted to understand.  
  
_Why am I not enough?_  
  
Bill’s face crumpled into the expression Hillary was now so used to seeing whenever her husband was faced with the reality of his indiscretions, and he was quick to respond with his usual despaired explanation. “Oh Hillary you are enough, you’re more than enough it kills me that I’ve made you believe that you aren’t.”  
  
Marianne caught the unsubtle roll of Hillary’s eyes and her equally skeptical look. “Why do you not believe him Hillary?”  
  
Hillary stared at her as though it was incredibly obvious, which of course to an extent it was. But Hillary knew how this worked by now. She knew Marianne just wanted her to voice what she was feeling in her own words and so reluctantly, she continued.  
  
“Because,” she avoided Bill’s gaze although she could feel it burning into her, “if I was enough he wouldn’t have to go looking for satisfaction elsewhere. It wouldn’t take just a pretty smile, a flutter of eyelashes and a glimpse of thigh for him to drop his pants.”  
  
Bill looked down at the floor, ashamed.  
  
“Obviously those other women have something that I don’t.” Hillary swallowed hard, desperately determined not to cry. “And I wish I knew what it was, what it is that I lack so much that it drives my own husband into the arms of a woman barely a few years older than our daughter. I’ve tried so many times to work it out and try to fix it but I can’t. I don’t know what it is that’s so wrong with me.”  
  
Hillary’s line of vision stayed firmly fixed on a spot of the wall in the distance wall as she spoke, not wanting to risk looking at either one of them in case she lost her carefully constructed composure again.  
  
“How does it make you feel to hear that from Hillary, Bill?”  
  
Bill shook his head at Marianne's question, speechless for a moment and devastation written all over his face. “Heartbroken…” he eventually mumbled. A tear slipped down Hillary’s cheek which she quickly brushed away as he continued trying to find the right words. “Regret and…and disgusted with myself for ever causing her to think she was anything less than the most incredible, breathtaking, perfect woman on the entire planet.”  
  
Hillary shook her head a little in disbelief, still unable to bring herself to look at him. “Not perfect enough to keep you from fucking about though.” She mumbled under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.  
  
“Bill, if you feel that way about Hillary-“  
  
“I do!” Bill blurted out before Marianne could even get to the end of her sentence. She waited for him to calm down a little before continuing.  
  
“If you do feel that way about her as you say you do, then why do _you_ think you betrayed her trust and strayed outside of your marriage into infidelity?”  
  
Bill’s mind raced, desperately searching for the answer to the question that had plagued him more times than he would ever be able to count. Endless sleepless nights on the couch hating himself, the sickening shame running through him after each sordid tryst in the Oval Office as soon as he had come down from the blinding heights of meaningless empty pleasure. The same question over and over again and again, racing through his mind in unknowing synchronicity with his wife’s thoughts too.  
  
_Why why why?_  
  
“I don’t know why.” He finally sighed in hopeless frustration. “I wish I did but I don’t I just can’t…I just can’t seem to control my impulses. I don’t know why I’m so goddamn weak. I always thought I’d be stronger, swore that I’d never become like that and now look at me I’m really no better than him after all…” Bill’s words slipped out before he’d even fully realized what he had said.  
  
“Better than who?” Marianne interjected. Bill looked up in surprise to find the counselor’s brown eyes piercing into him curiously. Hillary fought the urge to turn and look at him too although she already had an inkling who he was referring to.  
  
“Oh…um…I guess I meant my, um, my stepfather.”  
  
Bill seemed suddenly embarrassed, and Marianne could tell they had touched upon a delicate subject. Hillary found herself slipping her hand into Bill’s in support at the mention of his stepfather, although she still declined to look at him.  
  
“And was your stepfather the type of man to give into his impulses?” Marianne asked.  
  
Bill scoffed sarcastically. “You could say that.” Hillary squeezed his hand, soothing him a little. “He was violent and destructive and reckless. I grew up watching the damage he did to my mother and I swore I’d never be like that, never hurt the people I love like that but I have and I hate it. I’m just the same as him.”  
  
Marianne watched as Bill buried his head in hands in despair and gave him a few moments before her next question.  
  
“Was your step-father your primary male role model growing up?”  
  
Bill considered this for a moment. “I suppose so.”  
  
“I see.”  
  
Marianne wrote something down in her notes before looking up again. “You know, the behaviors we witness during childhood, particularly during key developmental stages, can have a deep impact on the type of person we will become in later life…”  
  
As Marianne continued her analysis of Bill’s behavior patterns and his self destructive tendencies paralleling those of his stepfather, Hillary stole a quick glance at her husband for the very first time during one of their sessions. His attention was fixed on Marianne and so he didn’t notice her looking at him. She felt a desperate tug at her heart as she watched him listening so earnestly; he looked so vulnerable all of a sudden. She hadn’t seen that look on his face for the longest time and in that moment she suddenly realized that they didn’t talk together in that way anymore, not like they used to. They had let that energizing lively conversation they started back in 1971 slowly waver and in it’s place an entirely different conversation had taken over. The President and the First Lady; debating policy, public appearances, strategies, travel plans, schedules, meetings, telephone calls, press conferences, the list went on. Beneath the weight of all that responsibility resting on their shoulders, the conversation of simply Hillary and Bill and all that they shared together had almost been forgotten.  
  
_Almost._  
  
Hillary suddenly turned to Bill, looking him in the eyes at last and taking hold of both of his hands.  
  
“You aren’t like your stepfather.”  
  
Bill was taken aback by the sudden softness in her voice and Marianne stopped speaking, sensing this was their moment to share alone.  
  
“I know your heart, Bill. I see the empathy you have and your commitment to helping people every single day. I see how much you care, all the good intentions and the positive change you push for in this country and the world. I know how real that is.”  
  
She lifted her hand to cup his cheek and he in turn gently pushed back the strands of hair that had fallen softly against her forehead framing her face.  
  
“Your mistakes, your betrayals, they’ve hurt me so deeply. And I still don’t know exactly how to rebuild the trust between us again…but I do at least know that this is where we start. And if we can start that means we can carry on. Just look at where we’re sitting now Bill; you wanting and trying to fix what’s been broken is exactly one of the many ways in which you aren’t like your stepfather. And you know, the ways in which you aren’t alike far outweigh the ways in which you are. You’re you Bill, you’re not him. And you don’t need to be him.”  
  
At those last words something seemed to suddenly click into place in Bill’s mind, as though a weight he’d never even acknowledged he’d been carrying had finally been lifted right off of him.  
  
_You don’t need to be him._  
  
Hillary studied his face and a light seemed to switch back on behind his eyes. Those keen bright blue eyes she adored so much.  
  
“You are enough Hillary.” Bill softly echoed her question from earlier. “It’s me who hasn’t been enough. I’m the one who’s failed you. And every single time my selfish indulgences and weaknesses led me into temptation away from you I became more and more convinced that I didn’t deserve you, and so I only continued to drive myself further away from you. I let my weakness send me astray to all the wrong places for comfort, but it never once satisfied me and do you know why? Because they weren’t you Hillary. Nothing and no one compares to you. Not ever, not once. Not even close.” He gently used his thumb to wipe away the silent tears falling from her eyes, gliding down the soft rouge of her cheeks despite her efforts to blink them away. “But I’m going to learn how to be strong for you Hillary. It’s me that needs to change and I swear I won’t stop learning to fight against every stupid, selfish impulse inside of me that has torn me away from you. Because I made a vow, in our tiny little living room 24 years ago, to love and to honor and to cherish you for the rest of my days.”  
  
“For better or worse.” Hillary whispered in response, her mind remembering that day and her heart longing for it, longing to once again feel how she had felt in those blissful moments.  
  
“Exactly. And this might be our worse honey, but better times are on the horizon, believe me. Our best days are still ahead of us.”  
  
Hillary would carry those words with her for years to come, clinging to them like oxygen in times of heartache and distress; the hope of a better tomorrow no matter how hopeless things may appear to be today. And finally, she believed it. She believed him.  
  
The once extinguished flame of trust inside of her slowly flickered, reminding her that despite all of her doubts it was indeed still there and soon, it would begin to burn brighter and more beautifully than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments and feedback are very much appreciated <3 And the final chapter will be posted Thursday/Friday!


	22. Reigniting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this story is finally finished - thank you so much everyone who has read along and enjoyed this and given kudos/comments. I hope this last chapter is a satisfying ending! 
> 
> Side note - this chapter references a particular version of the 'how they met' story that Hillary tells in this interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mofvwUUc7Cg&t=107s so if you haven't seen it and you want to then maybe watch it before reading this, although it still hopefully makes sense without that added context!
> 
> Also this ended up incredibly long but I didn't want to split it into two parts because there wasn't a natural break so hopefully it's not too long!

“Bill! Can you please just tell me where we’re going!” Hillary giggled, a blindfold tied over her eyes restricting her sight as Bill carefully held her hand and guided her steps.  
  
It had now been just over a month since the couple had had their breakthrough moment in marriage counseling and while it had certainly had been far from an instant fix, they had most definitely hit a turning point. Salvaging their relationship was undoubtedly an uphill climb, one that was slow and often painful but as their sessions continued they steadily felt less and less like they were being analyzed and more like they were making progress. Bill continued to talk about his childhood, opening up about memories he thought he had long since buried, and Hillary talked about what she went through with Jason as well as her feelings towards Bill, detailing her fears and personal struggle to slowly pick up the pieces of herself again. They were surprised that after all these years they were still finding new things to learn about each other, and the more they confided in one another the more the trust and forgiveness continued to blossom and grow between them, like new buds flowering into spring after a long and harsh winter.  
  
They also made much more time to talk with each other outside of the therapy room, both realizing they had neglected the parts of their relationship that formed the very foundations it was first built on.  
  
Bill was determined to salvage what they had lost and he began springing romantic gestures upon Hillary just as he had done when they were first dating. He routinely placed fresh bunches of spring flowers at her desk, and handwritten post-it notes were littered throughout her office and bedroom, each one detailing a different thing that he loved about her. One afternoon, Bill ordered in several large watermelons all the way from Arkansas and laid out a picnic for Hillary on the lawn, recreating how she had spent her very first visit with him to his home state all those years ago. She had laughed until her sides hurt as Bill desperately tried to carve into the biggest watermelon of all, clearly out of practice and struggling against its thick skin as the secret service agents stood anxiously by in complete horror as the president hacked at the fruit with an alarmingly large knife. Once they had finally cracked into it they lay back on the grass and enjoyed the delicious fruit, the sweet taste bringing back fond memories of home as they dreamily watched the clouds go by.  
  
Bill’s latest romantic gesture had been the most extravagant yet, and Hillary had watched that morning with burning curiosity as various crates and boxes were mysteriously delivered to the White House throughout the day. She had made several attempts to inquire as to what was going on but every single time she got even close to the action she had been swiftly ushered away by frantic staff members who were under strict instructions from the president. She had no choice but to not-so-patiently sit and wait and see what her husband was planning and so when at 8pm on the dot Bill finally appeared in her office with an unmistakable grin on his face and a necktie to cover over her eyes, she willingly complied.  
  
And so here she was, blindfolded and holding tightly onto her husbands arm as he led her through the long winding corridors of the east wing. They were both giggling at the slight absurdity of the situation, but Bill couldn’t help getting just a little teared up at just how far they had come; after everything they had suffered and gone through his wife was still standing by his side, quite literally now putting her utmost faith and trust in him to guide her.  
  
Finally they reached their destination, and Bill untied the blindfold then paused briefly before removing it.  
  
“Ready?” He whispered sweetly into her ear.  
  
She bit her lip and nodded, and finally he lifted the fabric from her eyes allowing her to take in her surroundings.  
  
Hillary gasped at the sight that met her eyes and she blinked around the room in disbelief. Hanging on the walls was almost every single painting and sculpture from the Rothko exhibit in the Yale Art gallery that they had been to see together almost 30 years ago. She found her eyes filling with tears as the beautiful colors of the paintings brought back floods of memories of the very first time she had laid eyes on them, hand in hand with a much younger, slightly viking-esque Bill Clinton who had sweet-talked his way into them being allowed into the gallery despite it being closed.  
  
“Is this-?”  
  
“Our first date!” Bill nodded proudly, and Hillary brought her hands up to her face in wonder.  
  
“Do you like it?” He asked slightly anxiously.  
  
“Oh Bill I love it! You really did all this for me?”  
  
“Of course. I’d do anything for you Hillary.” He replied with so much sincerity in his voice that she knew in her heart he undoubtedly meant every word. Their gaze lingered on each other for a moment before Bill broke it, suddenly remembering something else.  
  
“And-!” He bent down to pick something shiny up off the floor and presented it to Hillary, “-trash!”  
  
Hillary look down and suddenly realized the floor was littered with candy bar wrappers, empty cardboard coffee cups, and crinkled up chip packets, recreating how Bill had convinced the security guard to let them into the exhibit at Yale on the condition that they cleaned up all the trash left by students in return.  
  
Hillary burst out laughing, “wow, you really went all out replicating the details!”  
  
“I was even gonna try and wear the exact same shirt I wore in,” he chuckled, “but it turns out I may have possibly put on just a little bit of weight since 1971!”  
  
Hillary let out another ripple of giggles and patted her hands against his chest affectionately. “Aw honey! You still look every bit as handsome to me. Maybe just a little less…bearded.”  
  
They both laughed at that. Laughter was coming so much more easily to them around each other now; the comfortable ease of their relationship that they had previously cherished so dearly slowly but surely returning to them, stronger than ever.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re gonna make me pick up trash for a _second_ time on one of our dates!”  
  
“Well it didn’t seem to put you off the first time did it?” He grinned, snaking his hands around her waist pulling her closer. He felt overjoyed that she was no longer tensing at his touch as she relaxed comfortably against his shoulders and he kissed the top of her head gently.  
  
Bill held her close as her eyes scanned the transformed room, still barely able to believe it as she took in the magnificent beauty that surrounded them. As they gazed at the abstract colors on each canvas Hillary remembered how Bill had talked so enthusiastically about each piece when he had first shown them to her. The way his bright eyes were so alive with thought and consideration when he spoke had been one of the many first things she had found herself falling in love with that first evening. He’d had something to say about every single painting, and the way he had talked so passionately had captured her heart and mind and ignited something inside of her that she had never quite been able to extinguish.  
  
“How did you even manage to find all the same pieces again?” Hillary wondered aloud, still staring wistfully at comforting familiarity of the paintings. “They must have been a nightmare to track down after all these years!”  
  
“Oh, I made a few calls, pulled a few strings! Being president does come with its benefits you know.” He smiled, before continuing, “although, there is a rather anxious art curator in Connecticut right now who I’ve assured we’ll keep everything in its utmost pristine condition, and so: I must ask ma’am that you do not touch the art!”  
  
Hillary laughed at his terrible attempt to impersonate the security guard who had uttered those exact words to the two of them as they had entered the exhibit at Yale as young students.  
  
She laced her fingers between his, “well then, I guess I better keep my hands in yours just to be safe then!”  
  
“That’s more than fine by me.”  
  
They walked hand in hand, Bill kicking an empty soda can as they went before he eventually realized he should probably pick it up and start cleaning the mess he’d made in this historic and usually impeccably tidy room. Hillary rolled her eyes lightly with a smile and helped out too, gathering up the garbage into a black plastic bag Bill had brought with him.  
  
Each time they reached down for the same piece of litter and their hands brushed against each others touch they felt the same bolts of electricity shoot through them just as they had done all those years ago. They weren’t entirely sure whether it was the nostalgic atmosphere of their first date recreated or the fact that they had now gone so long without being intimate with each another, but neither could deny the intensity that was steadily building between them again.  
  
As they made their way around the rest of the room they found themselves edging closer and closer together. Bill tried to concentrate on the paintings but was finding it harder and harder to manage to take his eyes off of Hillary; the way she gazed in wonder at each art piece hanging on the walls, the feel of her soft touch as he held her hand in his, and the way her shirt fell open slightly as she leaned forward to read the descriptive plaque under each painting. He was completely and utterly spellbound by her.  
  
She could feel his eyes burning into her and a pink blush slowly crept up into her cheeks.  
  
“You know, after all the effort you went to to have these paintings located and brought here don’t you think you should maybe pay a little attention to them rather than staring at me?” She teased, and then it was his turn to blush, though he still didn’t take his eyes off her and his awestruck smile didn’t waver.

“I like this view better.”  
  
Hillary couldn’t help giggling at his response. He could be so cheesy sometimes. Right back from when they first started dating he would always come out with the most ridiculously cliche romantic lines, the type of thing that would make her cringe if she heard it in a movie yet when it was coming from his lips he always somehow managed to make her melt.  
  
Still chuckling, Hillary swung back away from him to step closer toward the next painting and admire it closer. Bill stayed fixed to the spot for a moment, watching the sway of her hips as she turned on her heel and the way her blazer clung tightly to every delicious curve on her body. He had missed her body so much. Missed holding her, touching her, caressing her soft creamy skin and pressing his kisses over every single inch of her.  
  
He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head lightly against her shoulder. She responded to his touch and pressed herself just a little closer into his embrace and placed her own hands over his as they hugged her waist.  
  
“I always loved this one.” She breathed, feeling his hot breath tickling against her ear as she nodded toward the painting they were now stood in front of. Bill followed her eyes up to the piece and gazed at it with her. “The way it seems like just one plain block of color when you look at it from this distance but when you get closer almost every single brushstroke is a different shade.”  
  
Bill untangled himself from her waist for a moment to lean in and inspect the painting closer. As he did, Hillary absentmindedly placed her hand on his back before sliding it down lower, a movement that did not go unnoticed by Bill. His mouth went dry and he swallowed, trying desperately to control his excitement at her touch and focus hard on the painting instead.  
  
“It’s beautiful,” he agreed, observing the painting’s primary color as his thoughts began to wander again. “Red… The color of passion.”  
  
Hillary felt her skin flush and he wrapped his arms around her waist again, turning her towards him this time.  
  
“And anger.” She countered with a coy smile as they stared hypnotized by the colors, the deep hue of the red unearthing memories and images in both of their minds of all kinds of things… Her ruby lipstick, matching her Oscar De La Renta gown, and the petals of the many deep scarlet roses he had brought to her over the years.  
  
“…And desire.” She continued with their list, heat rising to her cheeks and spreading through her lower body.  
  
“And beauty.”  
  
“And lust.”  
  
_“And love…”_  
  
With each word they had been inching closer and closer together, the temperature between them now searing hot and their lips so nearly touching but still not quite making contact. Bill looked deep into Hillary’s eyes and she poured the intensity flowing through his gaze right back into him, a look exchanging more than a thousand words could ever say until they could stand the anticipation no longer and finally closed the gap between them crashing their lips together.  
  
Fire spread through their bodies as they lapped up the taste of each other, lips caressing softly at first and then deeper, their tongues demanding further access to explore. Bill cupped Hillary’s cheek wanting her closer as he ran his other hand through her silky golden locks, tugging gently while she laced her fingers through his salt and pepper hair. He inhaled the sweet heady scent of her perfume flooding his senses and heightening his desire for her even further. Their lungs burned from lack of oxygen but their need for each other was overriding their need to breath. Moaning against each others mouths Hillary allowed her hands to travel lower, gripping Bill’s hips and pulling him in so she could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh. Bill could feel the heat between her legs even through her clothes and he knew all too well that if he didn’t pull back soon they would be too far gone, and he wanted to be sure that she was really ready.  
  
“Baby,” he finally gasped as their lips parted and they panted desperately to catch their breath, “if it’s too soon and you want me to stop just say the word and I will.”  
  
“Please, please don’t stop,” she breathed urgently before capturing his lips again, “I need you. I need to feel you again.”  
  
That was all he needed to hear. He gradually softened their urgent passionate kiss into a more drawn out tender one before parting their lips and resting his forehead against hers, holding her like she was the most priceless and precious thing in the entire world.  
  
“Let me take you to bed darlin…”  
  
They somehow made it upstairs to the second floor, stopping several times along the way to press against each other and reconnect their lips. They were fairly certain they had been seen by lingering staff members but they were far too lost in each other to care. When they finally made it up to their bedroom they collapsed back onto the bed and their lips resumed their heated contact, mirroring the dance their lower bodies were aching to do after so long deprived of each other.  
  
Bill’s kisses soon began to travel lower along Hillary’s exposed neck and she shivered in delight as he sucked at her sensitive pressure points. Keeping one hand on the back of his neck as he kissed her, Hillary used the other to tug at the fabric of shirt, untucking it from his pants and urging him to unbutton it and rid himself of the garment which he did. Bill then turned his attention to her clothing, pushing her restrictive blazer off her shoulders and flinging it to join his shirt on the floor.  
  
“You know what else is red...?” Hillary continued their trail of thought from earlier, her sweet voice dripping like honey against his ear. “My underwear.”  
  
Bill let out a deep groan in response, feeling himself hardening impossibly at her words. He fought the intense urge to rip right through the flowery silk of her shirt and instead managed to unbutton it slowly, determinedly focusing on her pleasure before his own. He wanted her to feel completely valued and loved, to take care of her like she deserved and be sure that she knew this wasn’t just about fulfilling physical desire, but that he wanted and treasured every single part of her and would never take for granted that she shared herself like this with him ever again.  
  
“I love you so much Hillary. Every single beat of my heart is yours and yours alone forever my love.”  
  
She was surprised at the sudden raw emotion in his voice, and she pulled back to find tears glistening in his eyes, swimming with regret and remorse and loss and love. _Love,_ surging from every fiber of his being into her and only her and in that moment, Hillary felt it more strongly than ever. As tears filled her own eyes too she brought his hand up to her heart so he could feel it beating, it’s usual steady pace quickened and heightened from arousal. “and mine is yours my love. Always and only yours.”  
  
They brought their lips together again tenderly, taking their time letting the heat steadily rise between them again. She wriggled out of her unbuttoned shirt to reveal the red lace of her bra, starkly in contrast with the beautiful porcelain of her soft skin. Bill broke away from the kiss and was stunned by her. _“So perfect Hilly.”_ He breathed, and she blushed as though he was seeing her body for the first time. He began trailing kisses across her chest and was instantly rewarded with the soft whimpering sounds tumbling from her lips encouraging him, pleading him for more. He unclasped her bra and kissed the soft mounds of her breasts, swirling his tongue and savoring every part of her. She arched her back as his touch teased her, feeling her center aching with want and need for him. Unable to restrain herself any longer she lowered her hands to the throbbing straining in his pants, stroking his hardness through the fabric. She felt a low vibration as he groaned against her salty skin in approval and she made quick work of unbuckling his belt and discarding his pants leaving him in only his briefs. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth to wet her lips and she rolled her hips against his, desperately searching for some friction. They both moaned at the grazing contact but it still wasn’t enough, the layers of fabric between them preventing the raw touch they so desperately needed. Bill moved his hands towards the waistband of Hillary’s pants urgently before he felt her soft hand on his, stopping him.  
  
“Let me.” She breathed, a faint flicker of an unwanted memory in her eyes and Bill instantly understood. She needed to be in control, to finally take back the power and strength in this side of herself that she’d lost.  
  
Bill watched in awe as she slid her pants off down her thighs, exposing her gorgeous legs and the red lace of her panties matching her bra. He felt his arousal twitch in anticipation as his wandering gaze noticed the unmistakably soaked material of her underwear. He licked his lips and searched her eyes for permission to continue.  
  
She nodded her consent. “Touch me honey.”  
  
Her breath was hot and quivering against his neck and she let out a soft cry of satisfaction as he finally dragged his long index finger over the front of her panties before gently tugging them down, leaving her deliciously bare in front of him. He leaned into her and parted her legs, breathing in her intoxicating scent before brushing his lips delicately against her sensitive bundle of nerves sending shivers down her spine. She threw her head back as sheer pleasure coursed through her, gripping tightly at his hair as he continued swirling his tongue expertly against her leaving her writhing and panting underneath him until she could stand it no longer.  
  
“Bill-“ she groaned, her breaths ragged and her body arching up against his touch as she struggled to string her words together. “Oh god Bill please I need to feel you inside me please please.”  
  
Bill tilted his head up to look at her; his perfect gorgeous wife utterly exposed for him and his eyes only. Her skin so flushed, her blonde hair tousled and catching the light like gold. He watched her bite down on her plump red lips in anticipation, a flash of perfect white teeth and a flutter of thick dark lashes hiding her glittery blue gaze as her eyes fell shut. He ran his deft fingers over every curve of her body, tracing the shape of her hips, the flat of her stomach and the dip of her tiny waist.  
  
“Please please please…”  
  
They locked eyes, exchanging glances and he finally gave into her pleading. He quickly stripped himself of his briefs and she guided him into position at her entrance. As he finally pressed inside of her silky heat she gasped, the sound like heaven on her lips as he tightly filled her and their bodies gloriously reconnected after abstaining for so long. He watched in awe as she threw her head back, blonde hair splayed out against the crisp white cotton of the pillow as they made each other whole again, the same words falling from both of their lips over and over. _I love you I love you I love you._ She wrapped her legs around him drawing him in closer and deeper as he started to move inside her.  
  
Memories flashed before their closed eyes like stars in ecstasy as they found their rhythm again, each thrust a different moment dancing across their minds. Their very first time, sweet, fumbling, inexperienced. Yale Law School, pressed up against the door of his dormitory in hard hot desire. And of course their wedding night, intense, loving, and passionate. Then Arkansas, trying again and again for children until finally their miracle in Bermuda. The incredible new life their love had created in the searing hot heat of that hotel room, sun kissed skin glowing with love and life and sex. The culmination of all these memories poured into this one moment that no one could take from them.  
  
It wasn’t long before the pleasure began to be too much for Hillary, the familiar sensation building in the pit of her stomach as she felt herself falling further toward the edge with each one of Bill’s thrusts pushing deep into her.  
  
“Bill-“ She gasped his name as though it was the only thing keeping her alive, “Bill I’m so close I’m-“  
  
“Let go baby, let go that’s it come for me my love,” he whispered sweet encouragements in her ear until he felt her walls clamping so tightly around him, pulling him tumbling over the edge with her with a deep groan.  
  
They cried out each others names as they came undone together, their the waves of their release rippling through every inch of them as they rocked against each other, holding on so tightly and never wanting to leave each others arms again.

 _"Every beat of my heart is yours and yours alone"_  
  
As the soft blue of the evening sky turned to black the bright moonlight spilled into their bedroom, illuminating their figures in the dark as they made love to each other well into the night until finally collapsing completely sated into each other’s arms. They soon drifted off into a deep sleep, their minds lost in dreams bursting full of hope for all the tomorrow’s they would share while their bodies stayed intimately intertwined, satisfied with their today. There they lay there together, wrapped around each other so perfectly, chests rising and falling in complete synchronicity with each others breathing as they slept so contently,  
  
peacefully  
  
_silently._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always any feedback is very much appreciated! Until the next time :) X


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